Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Typical Shepard, taking care of his possessions.
But I want him taking care of me.
I want him growling with jealousy.
I want him furious at the thought of other men touching me.
"Here." I take his coat. Sling it over my shoulders. It's too warm—far too warm—but it does the job of covering me.
His eyes meet mine. "Is that what you'd like, a quiet walk alone?"
"Yes."
"You can have the balcony to yourself."
"Even so."
He nods with understanding. "Think about what Jeff said."
"Huh?"
"He'll say the trip is just for us. Then he'll show up at the factory like it's a coincidence. Or he'll send Marcus. Jeff seems to believe us, but Marcus is… less easily impressed."
There's more there. Something he isn't saying. But I know better than to ask. "Sure."
"I've seen some of his factories. They're interesting, but not any more so than chocolate factories in Brooklyn. If you'd like to tour one sooner, I can arrange it."
"That's fine."
"We will need to accept his offer. Treat it like the gift he sees it as."
"Fly to Madrid?"
"I'm not sure you'll find much tea in Madrid. The paella might make up for it."
My chest warms. He's looking out for me. He's protecting me. But he's also treating me like a prisoner.
I don't know what to believe.
I repeat my mantra. Dad is okay. Dad is okay. Dad is okay.
That is what matters. "I suppose he won't appreciate it if we want to see his factory in Brooklyn?" I ask.
"Unlikely. But I'll see."
"Good."
"I think you'd like Paris. Even though—"
"No good tea there either?"
"So I hear." He offers me his hand. "Are you sure you don't want to come up now?" There's something in his eyes. Almost like he's pleading for me.
Not for sex or obedience.
For companionship. Comfort.
Which only makes my thoughts swirl faster.
This is strange. Confusing. I need to think. By myself. "Yes. Thank you."
"You can let yourself in." He pulls a key from his pocket. Presses it into my palm. "Lock the door behind you. And leave it on the table in the living room."
So he does know I don't have a key. And he wants to keep it that way. "This would be easier if I had a key."
"In a few days."
I guess that's a compromise. It's weird. But I can respect his caution. Mostly. "Thank you."
"Good night, Jasmine."
"Good night." I watch him move into the apartment. Then I turn toward the river and go in search of clarity.
What the hell does Shep want from me?
Why is he really doing this?
Chapter Eighteen
Shepard
From the balcony, I watch her walk away.
She's right. This is a safe neighborhood. And it's statistically unlikely a stranger will attack her. The real danger is inside the house. The people we know, love, trust—
They're the people who hurt us.
I know that better than anyone.
But I still watch her until her silhouette disappears. She is safe. There's a tracker in her phone. And another in my coat.
She's lived in New York City, in a far worse neighborhood, for years.
Even so, I fail to concentrate on work. My mind turns until I hear the door click open.
Her footsteps move closer. The click of her heels. Then the soft pads of her feet.
Jeff believes we're in love. At least, he believes it enough to vote in my favor. But he's also buying himself opportunities to spring other board members on me.
No doubt working up to the one I least want to see.
I guess there's no getting around this. At some point, I'll come face-to-face with that bastard. At some point, I have to keep it together as he gloats about his hold over me.
He's not going to vote in my favor unless I bend to him. But then I don't need his vote if I can convince half the board.
One down.
Three to go.
It should soothe me. It does, to an extent. But that fucking voice—
I can still hear that bastard.
I pull open the door. Move into the living room.
Jasmine is sitting at the long table, her red lips around a glass of water, her expression curious.
"How was your walk?" I try to make my voice calm. Even. Free of that bastard's influence.
"Warm." She motions to the coat rack against the wall. "I'm not sure you'll need it until the fall, but if you do."
"Are you comfortable in that dress?"
"More than you'd expect." Her eyes travel down my body. Stop on my pelvis. "Why do you ask?" She's daring me again.
But, this time, I'm out of patience. "Take it off."
Her eyes go wide. "I—"
"I said take it off. Don't make me ask twice."
Chapter Nineteen
Shepard
She stands. Reaches for her zipper. Pulls it down her back.
In one swift motion, the dress falls at her feet. "That's five thousand dollars of silk. Someone should hang it up."
She takes a step toward me.
Then another.
Not what I expected her to do.
"Are you going to remind me I'm supposed to beg?" Her voice is defiant. She wants to be punished for her insolence. Not what I usually enjoy, but when it's Jasmine—