Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 78732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
I swear my cock has a mind of its own when it jolts behind the denim of my jeans, trying to convince me to stay there rather than rush out and go to the meeting.
"I have face recognition on it," I growl.
"And you were asleep, making it too easy to gain access."
I narrow my eyes at her as I reach for the shirt I threw over the back of the sofa. I really wish I had time for a quick shower, but I'm already going to be late as it is.
"Is there a reason you're being so petty and hateful or did I misread you, and this is just how you are?"
I see it in her face when she begins to internalize what I said, and I instantly regret the words. The way her eyes dart to the side, refusing to look at me, makes me realize she may actually have some trauma there. Someone in her life has said some very hurtful things to her, and I hate whatever reminder my words may have conjured.
"Kaylee, listen—" I say, stepping forward as I pull my shirt over my head. "I—"
"You said you were going to find out what happened to Alena," she snaps, her internalized, self-reflection making her words sound less angry and sadder than I think she has intended them to sound.
"That's what my meeting is about," I return. "That's if I don't get fired first."
A wave of regret washes over her features, making it easy to read that she had allowed herself to believe that I lied to her about helping, and turning off the alarm on my phone for this meeting was her form of retaliation for not keeping my word to her.
"I need my car," she says as her eyes dart away.
"Dima and his people have it."
"We need to go get it."
My jaw clenches at the realization that this woman may not realize just how much potential danger she's in, having gotten tangled up with these people.
"I'm supposed to be a rich man, Kaylee. The type of man that would never allow my wife to drive an old clunker."
"Then how am I supposed to get to work?"
I get lost for a second in the way she crosses her arms over her chest and the way it enhances her breasts.
"Work?"
"You know, a job, a way to make money so bills can be paid?"
"You can't go to work," I say, knowing she can't be for real right now. "You're on their radar. They have your car and all your information. The type of man they think I am would never allow his wife to return to work at a shitty grocery store."
"It's sounding an awful lot like you're actually that type of man," she mutters, her eyes dropping to the carpet.
"Can we argue about this when I get back?" I ask, trying to keep my aggravation out of my tone, but I can hear it edging in with each word I speak. "I have that meeting I'm already late for."
She doesn't say another word as I pull on my boots and leave the room, but from the look on her face, I don't know that she'll be here when I return.
This has all gotten much more complicated than I ever thought it would be, but I guess that's the problem. I didn't really think when I went to that warehouse. I just acted and figured I'd deal with the cards where they landed. I never imagined they would land with a marriage license and a connection to the sexiest woman I've ever spent time with in my life.
Things would be a lot better if she didn't hate me, and this is something I mull over for the entire drive to the hotel that Ace is staying at.
By the time I lift my hand to knock on the suite door, I still haven't figured my way out of this situation, and just as the door opens, I'm left wondering if it's even something I want to escape.
"You must be Heathen," Ace says with a note of irritation in his tone.
"Sorry I'm late," I mutter, knowing now isn't the time to explain how usually I'm never late, and I despise tardiness more than almost anything else. "My wife didn't set the alarm."
The explanation sounds a lot better than the fact that she hacked my damn phone and turned the alarm off.
"Wife?" Ace asks, a reasonable look of confusion on his face. "Your dossier says you aren't married."
I can't help the smile on my face for some reason, but I don't have time to consider what that means when I lift my hand and show the simple gold band. Kaylee and I swapped these gold bands, something provided by Dima, and, of course, added it to the expense I owed to them. Kaylee took hers off the second I put her in my SUV and drove away from the warehouse. She left it in the center console of the vehicle and never looked at it a second time. I didn't feel right taking mine off.