Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 132649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
“So you’re really coming with me?” she asked, her happiness and excitement giving the question a joyful cadence that she couldn’t quite control.
“You actually thought I could say no to you? That I’d choose staying here, in this lonely place, without you? Iris, did you miss the part where I said I love you?”
Her lips spread into a wide smile and she launched herself into his arms.
“Oh my God, so we’re really going to do this?” she said in a voice that quavered in disbelief and her hand went to her stomach as she was hit by a sudden bout of queasiness.
“Hey, don’t go getting cold feet on me now,” Trystan chastised, and she gulped and shook her head.
“No, I’m fine. We’re doing this. We’re going out there and people will know I kissed Trystan Abbott—famous movie star.” He rolled his eyes and teasingly tugged at one of her curls.
“People will know I kissed Iris Hughes—talented, future bestselling author.”
“It’s a little intimidating,” she admitted, and he looped an arm around her neck and kissed the top of her head.
“Storm in a teacup,” he predicted.
“And what was that you said about a flat in London? I have a flat.”
“Iris, sweetheart, I love you, but I’m not sharing a flat with you and your two flatmates. On this one, I’m afraid I can’t compromise.”
“Where’s the flat?”
“Knightsbridge.”
“Oh, of course, he has a flat in Knightsbridge,” she muttered sarcastically to herself, rolling her eyes. “When did your life get so fucking surreal, Iris?”
He grinned and kissed the tip of her nose.
“Eat your toast. Chance will be here shortly. I’ll bring out the bags and do last checks.”
It was all happening so fast; it was hard to believe they were leaving. She truly loved it here—the place had really grown on her—and she hoped they’d be able to return sometime… preferably in summer.
She ate while he collected their bags and went down into the basement garage to fiddle around with a few things. He returned to pilfer a slice of her toast.
“There’s a ton of food in the fridge,” he said, between bites. “So I’ll leave the electricity on. I assume Miles’s family will know what to do with it.”
He wandered off again, cheekily stealing her cup of coffee, on his way out of the kitchen.
Before too long, she’d finished her breakfast and cleaned the dishes, which gave her some time to wander from room to room, ostensibly to see if she’d left anything behind, but really to say goodbye.
When she came to the suite of rooms that had been her prison for those first few terrible nights she paused and sucked in a deep breath before stepping inside. She’d expected… something. But all she felt was mild surprise that she’d built it up to be this dreadful place, when in reality it was really just a pleasant little living area for a teen, or perhaps a housekeeper.
Iris laughed quietly underneath her breath and exited the room without a backward glance. The events that had led to that horrible night had taken place a lifetime ago. And the two people caught up in the middle of all that drama had changed because of each other, for each other, and they were both the better for of it.
She walked to the front of the house where Trystan stood waiting, Luna on a leash beside him. He held out his hand to her and she took it without hesitation.
“Ready?” he asked, and she smiled at him and nodded.
“As I’ll ever be,” she said, inhaling deeply, trying to keep her nervousness and doubts at bay. It was hard to do so as she watched the black Mercedes-Benz 4X4 with heavily tinted windows slowly make its way up the drive toward them, the first sign of The Real World they’d seen in weeks.
Trystan took a step toward the vehicle as it slid to a stop in front of them.
Both front-passenger and driver-side doors opened, and two fair-haired men stepped out.
Iris hung back, her one hand on Luna’s head, as Trystan released her other.
“Sam, good to see you,” he greeted warmly, shaking hands with the shorter of the two.
He had to be Sam Brand. Iris ran a speculative gaze over the man with the close-cropped medium-blond hair and piercing ice-blue eyes. He was about five-ten or -eleven—a couple of inches shorter than Trystan—with a lean, muscular build. He was pretty good-looking, in a rugged way.
The other guy was recognizable from the press he’d been getting since his first appearance as Trystan’s bodyguard. Chance Griffin was huge, at least six -foot-four or -five with sandy hair, also kept military short like his boss’s. He was a silent behemoth, his face unsmiling, his eyes concealed by dark glasses. She sensed him sizing her up before his head moved slightly as he checked out the rest of their surroundings. Very much On Duty… and a pit formed in Iris’s stomach as she understood that this was Trystan’s reality.