Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 147415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 737(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 491(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 737(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 491(@300wpm)
“Eh, she doesn’t strike me as the type who goes around belting out the truth for its own sake.”
“She’s not,” I snarl. “I made a mistake with her—and not the type she implies.”
“Yeah, I figured. And I sure wouldn’t be here if I believed her at all, camping with you on a remote beach.” Her lips twist in a humorless smile. “The stuff she’s saying about you... Jeez, if I thought it was true, I wouldn’t come near you without an armed chaperone.”
“If the bullshit she’s claiming was true, I’d deserve hell. I’d be the first to admit it and face whatever damages a court deems necessary.”
“You’d deserve something, all right.” Her face relaxes, slipping into the first genuine smile I’ve seen since the not-kiss. “You shouldn’t have trusted her.”
“Now you tell me.” I roll my eyes.
“Well, just for next time. In case you decide to get mixed up with somebody like her again...”
“Is that a warning?”
“Warning?” She tosses her blonde hair over her shoulder and grins at me. “Oh, no. I said I’m game for helping restore your reputation. Hey, if all we do is find these otters tomorrow, I’ll sing your praises for the next three months every day on socials. Everyone will think Shepherd Foster is the patron saint of cute marine animals.”
Dammit.
A rough chuckle slips out of me.
“You’ll have your work cut out for you, convincing anyone,” I mutter.
Logically, I know I should be relieved she understands this PR scheme and isn’t bothered by it.
Also, if she can read me this easily, it means she’ll be able to keep this as professional and impersonal as I need.
Even so, irritation grips my chest, knowing she’s figured this whole thing out so easily.
Vanessa always tried to look deeper, too, hoping to unearth some dark secret or weakness she could exploit to win me over.
Look what happened there.
I fold my arms. “You really don’t believe Dumas?”
“Like I said, it doesn’t add up.” Destiny shrugs, taking her seat again on the sand, closer to the fire.
“How can you be so sure I’m not the heart-wrecking scoundrel she’s made me out to be?”
Destiny shrugs again and gives me a long look, starting at my chest and winding up to my face.
The firelight flickers in her eyes, teasing the green flecks from the blue pools. They’re practically luminous in the dark like this, vibrant fireflies that seem to see my soul.
She sees too deep inside me, and I don’t know what to do with that.
“Call it a hunch. A sixth sense. Whatever,” she says.
“You see dead people who aren’t assholes?” I say, referencing that silly movie. “Sorry to disappoint you, Miss Destiny, but I’m very much alive.”
“Oh, okay. You’re not as intimidating as you want to be, mister, for the record. You billionaires are all the same. Tons of loud bark and no bite. Totally harmless.”
The way she rolls her eyes tells me she’s joking, but something about hearing that strikes deep.
Anger, frustration, all the shit I shouldn’t feel erupts in my blood.
One second, I’m on the log, keeping a nice safe distance, doing all I can to keep her safe from me.
The next, I’m thunking my coffee cup down on the sand and crossing the gap to her.
Before I have another coherent thought, I drop down on my knees and push her back, pinning her to the sand.
My body hovers over hers like a man possessed and every breath feels like napalm.
Fuck, I don’t know what I’m doing.
Some kind of primal impulse takes over. This manic urge to remind her I’m not harmless, to tell her not to get too close or think she can slide into my life like it’s a pair of slippers.
She can’t fucking know me.
Nothing good has ever happened with the people I invited in.
She should consider me dangerous.
Tainted.
Unhinged.
All logic deserts me as my brain catches up to my body, which is far too close to hers.
I can feel her under me.
I’m not letting my lips brush hers.
I’m not gripping her shoulders hard.
I’m not losing my shit.
And Destiny, she’s barely breathing now, her chest pushing against mine with shallow breaths that make me feel her tits behind that thin layer of fabric.
Is she afraid yet?
For both our sakes, she should be.
My anger softens the longer I stare at her, though, replaced by a sharpening awareness.
The darkening night deepens around us.
The crackling fire grows louder.
The distant roll of the evening tide echoes in my ears, almost as loud as my heartbeat as I stare down at her like prey, willing myself to rip away the next second.
The softness of her body against mine kills me.
She’s slender, but lush.
All graceful curves and toned muscle and unbearably soft skin.
Her lips are parted in a devilish invitation, calling my hands to all the wrong places, begging my brain to switch off.
I feel my cock swelling as I try to get a grip.