Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 23750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
“Being sized.” His eyes open as he stands and my hand drops away. He turns, shutting off the water. He gestures to the steaming bathtub. “Relax. I need to check on a few things.”
He leans down and kisses me, stopping me from trying to talk him into joining me again. I’ll let it go for now. He pulls back and helps me into the bathtub. I let out a sigh as I lean back, letting the warm water wash over me.
“God, that feels wonderful.”
I open my eyes to see him looking down at me. His eyes roam all over my body, and I lick my lips wondering what he looks like naked. “Stop looking at me like that or I’m not going to be able to control myself.” My eyes fly back to his, realizing I’ve been caught checking out his body. The man is built.
“I’m not stopping you,” I tease. He shakes his head, running his hand down his face with a growl.
“I’m going to be in my office for a little bit. Enjoy your bath, little one.” He leans down over me and kisses me. I wrap my hands around his neck, deepening the kiss. I don’t care that I’m probably getting him wet. For some reason, I know he won’t care. Even if I don’t remember him from before, there is something inside me that tells me he’s safe. It’s been there from the moment I woke up. I knew he was mine somehow.
When he pulls away, I laugh out an apology at his wet shirt. I’m surprised when he pulls his shirt off and tosses it away, revealing his broad chest. He winks and walks out of the bathroom.
“Tease,” I call out to him and hear his deep chuckle in reply.
It’s crazy how happy and light I feel with everything that’s going on. A relaxed and free feeling settles over me. I don’t know how long I soak in the bathtub. When the water finally turns cold I pull myself out, grab a towel to dry myself, then brush my wet hair out.
I go in search of something to wear. I see a few things in the closet that must be mine. There’s only a dress, a few shirts and some pants. When I go to grab one, I pause. My stomach twists. I don’t want to put the clothes on. I turn and go over to Orlando’s clothes and grab another one of his big shirts.
I drop the towel but freeze when I catch my reflection in the tall mirror on the far wall. I walk towards it and touch the bruise on my ribs. When I get close, I swear it looks like a boot mark.
I close my eyes and my mind flashes to being on the floor and someone kicking me hard. I can remember all the air leaving my lungs. Panic taking hold. My eyes fly open and I turn from the mirror. That sense of panic lingers all around me. I want to run to Orlando.
I remember flashes of an accident, but there has to be more. There’s something my husband isn't telling me.
Chapter Seven
Orlando
“Get me everything you can find on her and her grandfather. Send me stuff as you find it. I’m not waiting for all of it. When you get it, I get it.”
“I can get it all to you in about—”
“Now. I don’t care the cost. Whatever you’re doing, drop it,” I demand.
“All right,” Mic says, letting out a loud sigh, but I already hear him clicking away on his computer. “She must be something if she’s got you all worked up like this.”
“Mic,” I grit out, but it only makes him laugh. We worked together when I was a Ranger. Well, sorta. He got intel and was good at it. Now I’m going to owe him a chunk of money for this and probably a favor.
“I’ll start sending stuff over. Already got a few things while I’ve been talking to you.”
“Thanks. I owe you. This means a lot to me,” I admit.
“Hope everything I get you is good news for you. You deserve it.” With that, the line goes dead. I drop the phone on my desk and open my email to see what he’s got already. The first thing is the missing person's report. Says she and her grandfather got in a fight and she took off after stealing his car.
“Shit.” Doesn't matter. She stole that car for good reason. I could fix that easy enough. Next, he sends me her high school diploma and grades. Perfect student. Involved in all kinds of extracurricular activities. The list of crap she did is exhausting. Then nothing. No college or jobs. She pretty much dropped off the planet.
Another email comes in and I click it. Picture after picture shows her at events, always next to her grandfather, dressed up to the nines. In each photo he has a hand on her elbow, almost in a possessive hold. It makes my stomach tighten. He acts as if he owns her.