Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 112762 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112762 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Sloane Harrow was scared of someone.
And that caused a low rage in my gut that set me on edge.
The first person she’d fled to at work was Aria. What were those two women hiding? How did I get Sloane to trust me enough to tell me? The damn woman was a constant source of distraction, but I knew how to compartmentalize, to focus on work when I needed to.
As soon as the end of her shift came around, however, I let Jock know I was leaving. My boss and Lachlan had agreed to the change in my hours so I could protect Sloane.
Lachlan had called me that day, in fact, to let me know he was close to nailing Hoffman to the wall. He’d found two women who were willing to come forward to press charges against him and was working on a third.
Sloane wasn’t in the housekeepers’ locker room. Only the quiet housekeeper, Sarah McCulloch, was there, sitting on the bench typing on her phone. She glanced up at my entrance and dropped her gaze almost immediately.
Agitated by Sloane’s absence, I turned to leave when she spoke up. “Are you looking for Sloane?”
I turned back. Sarah still stared at her phone, giving me her delicate profile. It was the first time I’d heard her voice, I realized. “Aye. Have you seen her?”
She nodded, without turning my way. “She said to tell you she’s waiting at your car.”
That she wouldn’t look at me made me wonder if Sarah was afraid of me. Sometimes people were wary of me because of my size. And I wasn’t exactly Mr. Smiley.
It bothered me, especially when it was a woman, but there wasn’t a lot I could do about my height or my personality. Besides, from what I’d observed, Sarah seemed shy around almost everyone. “Right. Thanks, Sarah.”
She looked up at me, surprise on her face. Shocked I knew her name? I was taken aback to notice she was attractive. The woman made a concentrated effort to be invisible, and it worked most of the time. “Y-you’re welcome, Mr. Ironside.”
“Call me Walker.” I gave her a nod and turned to go find Sloane.
Sure enough, she leaned against my Range Rover, texting.
“Callie?” I asked.
Sloane looked up, those gorgeous dark eyes filled with wariness. Now that truly pissed me off. She should know by now she’s safe with me. If my prodding this morning annoyed her, that was one thing … but that it had put her guard up around me was another.
“What?” She stuffed her phone into her back pocket.
“Is Callie texting you?”
“No.”
I unlocked the vehicle and Sloane jumped in without another word. Gritting my teeth, I got in beside her and waited for her to say something else.
Nothing.
She clipped her seat belt and stared out the window. I wanted to reach across the distance between us and trace the curve of her jaw. Instead, I turned on the engine and fisted the steering wheel against the urge to touch her. Usually, like her daughter, Sloane filled the silence with her soft voice. She’d tell me about her baking or pepper me with questions. Sloane never seemed bothered by my short answers, seeming to understand where others didn’t that it was just the way I was. It wasn’t my way of getting people to shut up. Most folks thought it was. That I was rude. It didn’t bother me. I didn’t have time for most people.
But I had time for Sloane.
Talk to me.
“Who was it?” I blurted, needing her voice to fill the emptiness.
“Huh?” She glanced at me with a frown.
“Who were you texting?” I meant it as a casual question, but it came out almost interrogative.
Sloane hesitated for a second. Then, “It was a guy on a dating app.”
Sloane was dating.
It shouldn’t bother me. I should consider it a good thing. She was moving on from whatever infatuation she had with me.
And yet the very thought of this faceless fucking guy touching her made me want to knock him senseless.
Or fuck Sloane senseless.
Keeping my face coldly impassive, I nodded as we approached the gates of the estate. “Have you arranged a date?”
Sloane didn’t answer as the guys at the gate let us out with a wave. As soon as we hit the road toward the village, she replied, “No. We’ve just started talking, but if we had, you’re not stopping me from going on a date. I think we’re blowing this whole thing out of proportion.”
“We’re taking precautions. If you’d tell me what you’re running from, I’d know what to look out for, and we could plan your safety accordingly.”
Silence.
Fuck.
“Sloane … you can trust me.” I glanced at her, and she gave me an apologetic curl of her lips.
“There’s nothing. Just Hoffman.”
Liar.
Disappointed and pissed off, I didn’t speak again as we made our way to her cottage.