Wicked Secrets (Scandalous Billionaires #7) Read Online Lisa Renee Jones

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Erotic, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Scandalous Billionaires Series by Lisa Renee Jones
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Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
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I sit the pizza down on the table next to her and eye the bed of blankets and pillows she’s made for us in front of the fireplace, but it’s her that I’m worried about. “You okay?”

“Are you?”

In other words, no, but she’s not a complainer. “Not until you are, baby.” I don’t wait for her reply. I load up the fireplace with more wood before walking to the window, eyeing the perimeter and high level of snow now blocking the door. “No one can get in now, that’s for damn sure,” I say, but what I don’t add is that we can’t get out either. We’re trapped, and being trapped is dangerous.

I rejoin her, and we eat, drink, and settle on the floor, where I set my gun on one side of me, and pull her close, under my arm, on the other side. To my relief, Ashley curls into me, wrapping her arms around me. I have everything I need to rest. Her. My gun. My vow to shoot anyone who comes in that door first and ask questions later.

Chapter thirteen

Ashley

Aloud crashing sound has me gasping and jerking to a sitting position, my gaze shooting around the cabin and settling on Noah—no, Aaron—throwing logs on the fire. “Easy, baby,” he murmurs, quickly standing and walking to my side where he kneels. “The storm is over. I made sure the fire will keep you warm while I go scout out our route before we leave.”

“You’re leaving me alone?”

“Not for long,” he promises. “But a safe passage out of here is critical.”

“Can’t we just scout as we go?”

“If I was alone, I’d do just that, but I’m not taking you out there and making you a target. I’m taking you out of here to ensure you’re not one.”

“What if someone tries to come in here while you’re gone?” I ask, concerned that I’m not equipped to handle anyone of his skill set alone.

“Shoot them and kill them,” he says, taking my hand and helping me to my feet, picking up my purse and sliding it over my head across my chest, before slipping my gun inside. “Keep it at your hip at all times, just in case, but this is just a precaution. I’ll get to them before they ever get to you.”

“What if—”

He grabs and kisses me. “I got you. I got us. When I get back, though, we’re leaving right away. Be ready. I put your coat in the bedroom when we arrived, and you have basic toiletries in your bag if you want to freshen up. You don’t have time to shower. I don’t plan on being gone that long, and I don’t want you that disengaged from your weapon.”

“Because the one man who was here could have told another,” I say. “And we’re being hunted.”

He gives me a nod, no hesitation or fluffy feel-good stuff, which I actually appreciate. I want to ask where we’re going, but I’m smart enough to sense his urgency. He wants out of here. I want out of here. Conversation doesn’t make that happen. “Got it. Shoot. Kill. Bundle up.”

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs softly, leaning in and kissing my neck, but that little show of affection is quick.

He heads for the back door. “Come and lock up!” he calls over his shoulder.

I rush after him, and by the time I arrive in the kitchen, he’s bundled up and shoving a gun in his pocket. “Shoot and ask questions later,” he says, reaching for the door. “Understood?”

“Yes,” I say, joining him at the door. “I understand.”

He kisses me and exits the cabin into a cold morning and only then do I realize that the sun is just now climbing the horizon, but the snow is cleared; he was up long before I knew he was awake. I shut the door and lock it, turning to stare at the table that covers the basement door. There’s a dead body down there. I wonder now if Aaron killed him and didn’t want to scare me by telling me, but he vowed not to lie to me again. I want to believe that he won’t, even when the truth is difficult. It’s a conversation we have to have again, a bit more candidly than we have thus far, I think. Later. God, much later, when we’re safe. If that day ever comes.

I shiver and push off the door, rushing into the living room and digging through my bag. I find a toiletries bag and hurry to the bathroom. A few minutes later, my face is washed and moisturized, sans makeup. My hair is brushed. I even change clothes, fitting in a sponge bath. All that said and done, I’m packed up, my coat already on, and under it, my purse and gun are at my hip.


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