Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 75771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
“I met Bandit earlier,” she grumbled. “I didn’t understand why you would have a cat. I figured you must keep him around as an intimidation tactic. Freaks people out. Duarte, goddamn cat person.” Her grumbling turned into a groan. “I’m so fucking tired. Those weren’t antibiotics.”
I laughed and dropped a kiss on her shoulder. “One of them was. The sleeping pill was to make sure that I can sleep through the night without you trying to smother me with a pillow the minute I drift off.”
“Good idea,” she slurred.
I nuzzled her hair, loving the silky glide against my cheek. “Maybe tomorrow night, kitten.”
“Definitely.”
Just hours ago, it would have been unthinkable that I was going to sleep cuddling Carmen Ronaldo instead of fucking her into a stupor. But I was exhausted, and my strangely erratic behavior was proof of my desperate need for sleep.
Tomorrow, I would wake up and be my normal, controlled self again.
Chapter 11
Carmen
“You’re very quiet this morning, kitten. Are you still sleepy?”
I scowled at Stefano. The bastard had managed to get dressed and ready for his day before I’d so much as stirred in bed, thanks to the damn sleeping pill he’d slipped me.
He appeared utterly composed in his perfectly tailored suit, his black hair effortlessly styled. The shadow of stubble that darkened his square jaw was deliberately designed to give the deceptive impression that he was a flawed, normal human. The way he presented himself was carefully calculated, his wealth and power evident in his expensive clothing while maintaining just the right amount of masculine nonchalance to suggest fallibility. There was nothing fallible about Stefano Duarte.
In contrast, I’d scarcely had time to brush my tangled hair before he dragged me to the dining table to have breakfast with him.
He chuckled in response to my sullen glare, his obsidian eyes glittering with amusement. “Drink your coffee. I’m sure it will improve your mood.”
“Doubtful,” I grumbled, but I sipped at the caffeinated beverage, anyway. I needed to clear the cobwebs from my brain, so I could face this new day of twisted mind games.
“What’s on your schedule today, darling?” he mocked, as though I had any choice in my activities. “Anything interesting?”
“You mean other than staring at the ceiling and fantasizing about inventive ways to kill you? Not really.”
He barked a laugh, bizarrely delighted by my homicidal response. “I’ll have to find other ways to keep your clever mind occupied. Is that all you did to pass the time yesterday? I thought you might like to read the book I left out for you on the nightstand.”
The reminder of the disconcerting presence of my favorite childhood novel cleared the fog from my mind as effectively as a gale force wind. My gaze sharpened on his face, studying each of his features for any hint of emotional response.
“What made you think that I would like that book?” I asked coolly, as though the title meant nothing to me in particular. “The Secret Garden is an odd choice for a man in his thirties. I’m shocked you even had it in your collection.”
His lips twitched at the corners, the barest suggestion of a frown. “You own a first edition. I saw it displayed on your bookshelf that night we were together. I assumed you liked it.”
I lifted my brows and attempted to mask my shock with a dry response. “You had time to focus on my décor that night? I was under the impression that your mind was occupied elsewhere.” I gestured at my body. “Maybe it wasn’t such a magical fuck for you, after all.”
His mouth twisted in an unmistakable scowl, his eyes flashing. “Our connection was about more than my enjoyment of your tight little pussy. I wouldn’t have you here with me now if I’d only taken pleasure in your body. That night, I took note of every aspect of your home because I was trying to manipulate you into giving me the information I needed on your brother. I only purchased a copy of The Secret Garden months later. When I couldn’t stop thinking about you, about how you didn’t just fall into bed with me. You pushed back. You resisted, forcing me to use every carnal tactic I knew to finally conquer you. And your surrender was exquisite.”
His eyes closed briefly, as though he was savoring a particularly delicious flavor on his tongue. Then, his black gaze snapped back to me, pinning me in place.
“I’ve studied since then. I became more deviant, engaging in the darkest perversions in an effort to eclipse that night with you. Nothing satisfied me, so I started studying your mind. I’ve read The Secret Garden countless times. What is it that you like about the story? The happy ending? Or the lonely girl? Maybe both.”
He leaned forward in his chair, and I felt his intense presence in my personal space, even though the dining table separated our bodies.