Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 155037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 775(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 517(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 775(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 517(@300wpm)
“Been accused of many things, but never that. I’m a bit worried.”
“You? Worried?”
His lips twitched. “It happens on occasion. You’ve never been with a Dom before, have you? Never had a Daddy?”
“No. I’m messing it all up, aren’t I?” Just like she messed everything up.
Damn it.
“No, you’re not,” he said firmly. “Everything doesn’t just lay on your shoulders, baby. You have a tendency to take the blame for everything.”
She did?
Maybe.
But yikes he barely knew her and he’d seen that?
“I’m just . . . testing you, I guess is the best way to put it. Making sure this is something you really want.”
“Oh, because if it’s not, then there’s no point in you wasting your time on me. I get that. I mean, not that there is a you and me. Well, you said you’d uncomplicate things, though.”
He made a strange noise and she jolted, staring at him in shock.
“Are you all right? Where does it hurt? Is it your stomach? Chest? Oh my God! You’re having a heart attack? I’m not good at CPR! I failed the test.”
“I don’t need CPR, I’m not in that sort of pain.” He narrowed his gaze at her. “And you are not ever a waste of time. Do you hear me?”
She bit her lip, nodding.
“I mean it. If you don’t want this, then it’s fine.”
“I don’t think that will be a problem anyway,” she whispered. Since she did want it.
“Good girl for telling me that.” He frowned. “Wait, what test did you fail?”
“The one for CPR. They asked for volunteers to do a First-Aid course for work. I got kicked out after the first day and told not to come back.”
“You didn’t.”
“I did. Really. The instructor told me that if I ever needed to perform CPR on someone, that the person was basically screwed. It was rude, really. I wasn’t that bad.”
He shook his head. “I’ve never heard of someone failing a First-Aid class.”
“Hello, nice to meet you. I’m Isabelle. I am a First-Aid failure. Do not go into cardiac arrest around me. It was my mouth-to-mouth, I think. I just couldn’t master it.”
“I’m sure I can help with that,” he drawled.
Whoa. Double meaning.
Their server returned to take their orders, saving her from having to say anything to that.
They both ordered porterhouse steak with vegetables and mashed potatoes.
She searched for a topic of conversation, seeing as he seemed to be content with just staying silent and staring at her. And the more he stared at her, the wetter she became.
“Should have brought an extra pair of panties.”
“What was that?” he asked.
Oh God. Oh no!
“Did you enjoy the fair?” she blurted out. “Did you try some rides? We were on the rollercoaster for like five seconds before I felt like getting off.” Oh my God! It got worse. “The ride! Off the ride!”
He started to laugh. A big, booming laugh that had everyone staring over at them. That wouldn’t have worried her if it wasn’t for the fact that she was as red as a tomato.
She dropped her head forward, smashing it into the table.
Ouch. That really hurt.
“Careful!” Remy said in a sharp voice. Suddenly, he was crouching next to her. “Did you hurt yourself?”
“Is it possible to feel pain when you don’t have a brain?” she asked woefully. “Also, that rhymed.”
“Look at me.”
Huffing out a sigh, she straightened, rubbing her head. She couldn’t look anywhere. She was way too embarrassed. “Can you run?”
“Run?”
“Yeah. Run. Because we’re gonna have to make a run for it.”
“Run?”
“Um, Remy, are you okay?” she asked, patting his hand on her knee.
“I’m really not sure. Wait, that’s my line. Are you all right?” He reached up to prod at her forehead with a gentle hand. “No lump. Does it hurt?”
“I’m fine,” she whispered. “Just dying of embarrassment. Except not actually dying since that would be a relief.”
“Baby,” he said in a soft voice. “Sure you didn’t hurt yourself?”
“I’m sure. Is everyone looking at us?”
“Do you care if they are?”
Kind of? This was Stepford, not Wishingbone. In Wishingbone what just happened wouldn’t even register on the radar as weird or embarrassing.
When you were friends with Kiesha or Loki your radar for quirky kind of changed and expanded.
“In Wishingbone, I’m considered boring.”
“Who considers you boring?” he said.
“Sorry. I was thinking out loud.”
“I’ve noticed you do that a lot.”
“Not really. Only around you.” She sighed. “I don’t want to care, but are they staring?”
“If they are, I’ll make them stop.” He stood before she could answer him and turned to look around at everyone.
Was it just her, or did the whole restaurant go silent? Then in a move that showed the sort of man he really was, he grabbed his chair and drew it around so he sat next to her. That meant he completely blocked her from everyone else looking at her.
Instantly, she felt more at ease.