Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 148184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
“Angel?” Just like that, his voice cuts through the darkness, and I stumble toward him.
He turns in the chair and scoops me into his arms, placing me on his lap. “What are you doing here?”
His tone is even and soft. I can’t tell if he is angry or annoyed, which worries me. I can always read people; it’s how I’ve stayed alive through years of abuse. Often, I can just gauge things by how a room feels.
“I just wanted to see you, I guess.” It sounds ridiculous, but it’s the truth, so I don’t try to take it back.
He grabs something from the plate behind me and brings it to my lips. “Eat, Val, you need to eat more. I want you strong and healthy.”
I chew on the bit of bacon and swallow, content to let him feed me. It feels nice to be pampered and cared for, and he doesn’t seem tired of doing it.
“What are you up to?” I ask after I finish chewing.
He pops the rest of the bacon in his own mouth. “Eating, obviously.”
I roll my eyes and shake my head. “After you eat, obviously,” I mimic his tone and earn a sharp pinch to my ass.
“I have some things to go over with Kai. Then we need to break up the assignments for my men for the week.”
I’m curious about his life, about his business. The society isn’t exactly involved in legal activities, but I don’t know anything about what he does or doesn’t do. “What kind of assignments?”
He nuzzles my neck, peppering kisses around like a collar. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
His comment stings. Does he think I’m too stupid to understand? Or that I’m a pampered princess who can’t be bothered with the day-to-day life of working people? Of course, I don’t say either of these things. I just hug his head to me while he continues his path of kisses.
“Why do you ask?” he says, pulling back to meet my eyes.
But I can’t meet his gaze. “No reason. I was just curious.” It would be so simple to tell him that I want to be a part of his world and not just an observer. I want to know how he spends his time when he’s not with me. I want to know his people can keep him and me safe. I could say all of these things, and once upon a time, I would have. Now, I feel like every conversation could be a minefield.
He watches me closely, and I’m not sure he believes me. Another zing of hurt washes through me at that even though he’d be correct.
“You smell different today, what is that?”
I rub the center of my chest. “Sorry, it was in the bathroom. I think it’s lavender oil? The bottle said it was good for headaches, but it also smelled nice, so I used it as perfume.”
His forehead bunches up, and a haunted look enters his eyes. It comes on so fast I cup his cheeks with my hands to look at him. “What? What is it? Are you okay?”
The abject sorrow is gone as fast as it washed over him, and I worry, still scanning his features for any clues.
“It just reminds me of my mother. She used to wear lavender oil. I remember she always smells like this.”
Oh, no. I move to climb off his lap, but he captures me against him, not letting me leave.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know,” I say, still trying to get away even as his hold tightens on me.
“No, it’s okay. The scent just surprised me. It’s fine, really.”
I’m still terrified he is about to fling me in the hallway and find someone to shove me out the door.
“Stop fighting me, and be still,” he grouses.
I freeze and let him pull me back against his chest. He picks up a bit of toast and presses it to my lips. Obediently, I take it and chew as he watches me closely. Once I finish, he eats the other piece, still content to sit and stare.
The curiosity gets the better of me until I can’t hold it in any longer. “What happened to your mother?”
He stills, his entire body just not moving. Shit. I once again prepare myself to run if necessary. Not that it would help me if he wanted to catch me.
“She died a long time ago.” His words are soft and filled with so much pain.
I cup his cheeks again and swing my leg over to straddle his lap and get closer. “I’m so sorry. How did it happen?”
He gives me a rueful shrug. “I don’t know. Family mystery. Even my bastard father couldn’t tell me before he died.” Something hard enters his eyes, and I remember. My father is the one who was supposed to have killed Adrian’s father. Shit.