Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 100716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
“Do what to me?”
I feel the inexplicable pull that forever overwhelms me when he is near growing as intently as the hurt in his eyes when he says, “You’re a mother, Mara. You have a child.” It isn’t hatred for Tillie in his eyes when he continues. It’s admiration. “A precious daughter you’re meant to protect from the monsters of the world.” The animosity I was seeking earlier fills his eyes as he mutters, “From monsters like me.”
The sound he makes when he races through his bedroom door is pained, as tormented as the hiss that whistles between my teeth when I try to go after him and fail.
My ankle could bear my weight. I didn’t lie when I said it was more uncomfortable than painful. I’m just not brave enough right now to pretend it can.
23
ARKADIY
Rafael’s dark eyes lift to mine when I enter my office at the speed of a bullet being dislodged from a gun. He’s nursing a half-consumed glass of whiskey and sniffing a cigar like he doesn’t screw up his nose every time he’s offered one by a foreign dignitary.
He places down the gift from a Saudi prince when I say, “Call Darius and organize for him to transport Mara home. She’ll be out for a week in her condition.”
“Fuck her over that good?”
His question is a knife to the gut, and I snarl my disapproval.
Rafael grunts before slipping onto the chair across from the desk. “What the fuck did you do, Ark?”
“Nothing,” I snap back as I move to the bar, needing something to fill my hands before my nails add to the permanent nicks and scars covering half my body.
Rafael glances at me with his brows pulled, then asks, “What do you mean nothing?”
“How else can I explain it to you, Raf?” I pour a generous serving of whiskey, toss it back, then slam the glass down. “It’s pretty self-explanatory.”
“You carried her to your room, in your fucking arms. She may not have been clutching your biceps like Ann in King Kong, but she sure as fuck had portions of your body brushing against her fingertips.” The bewilderment on his face increases. “Yet you did nothing the instant you had her alone, in the very far corner of your apartment, away from the prying eyes of the woman who has your head in such a tail-fucking-spin that I’m struggling not to puke.” Since he isn’t asking questions, more summarizing events, he doesn’t wait for me to reply. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Why wouldn’t you take advantage of that?”
“Advantage?” I choke on the whiskey lingering in the back of my throat. “Perhaps therein lies the problem. I don’t want to take advantage of her.”
“She hurt her ankle, dickwad. She’s not intoxicated or strung out on drugs. She knew what she was doing and would have been an extremely obliging participant.”
I can’t deny a single thing he says since it is true. Every inch of Mara’s body begged for me to touch her. Her nipples. Her lips. Those fucking eyes. They were all begging, and it took everything I had to walk away.
I did it for one reason and one reason only.
Tillie.
As if he read my silent thoughts, Raf says, “You’re an idiot.”
“I’m reasonably sure we established just how fucked in the head I am decades ago.” I down another three-finger serving of whiskey. It does little to ease the bristling of hesitation prickling my arm hairs. “The fact you’re surprised has me hopeful I can pull the wool over more than your eyes in the near future.”
Rafael scoffs but remains quiet, the fight not in him.
I slump into my chair and then run my fingers through my hair. The scent my quick rake wafts up worsens my mood. I can smell Mara on me, and it has nothing to do with the number of times I’ve stroked my cock to the scent of her shampoo.
When she whispered that she trusted me, I stood so close we almost became one.
At that moment, there was no one in the world but us.
Then the quickest whiff of a perfume I will never forget saw me throwing it all away as if our sparks are empty candy wrappers.
I’ve never felt more ashamed or conflicted.
“So,” Rafael starts, pulling my focus back to him, “how do you want to play this?”
I stare at him, lost.
“Mara.” He scoffs again. “Obviously.”
“She needs to take a few days to heal her ankle.” And to let me get my head screwed on straight before I do something that will monumentally alter her life. “Once it’s good, she can continue with her placement.”
He twists the knife in deeper. “You still want her to work for you?”
“Of course I want her to work with me. Why the fuck wouldn’t I want her to work with me?”