Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 122550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
“You could get dizzy, fall, and hit your head.” He shook his head. “No. Not happening.”
“So I just have to stay stinky and dirty?”
Awesome. She’d just told him that she was stinky. Although if he stuck around, he’d soon find that out for himself.
“The only way you’re showering is if I’m showering with you.”
Oh yeah, she could imagine that . . . he’d strip her off and press her against the wall as he fucked her nice and hard. Or perhaps he’d order her onto her knees . . .
Down, girl.
He didn’t mean it like that.
Stay cool. Do not let him see how he affects you.
“Yeah, well, obviously, that’s not happening,” she said.
“Obviously.”
Did he sound regretful? Or was she just searching for what she wanted to hear?
“But I suppose I could run you a bath.”
All right. That would be acceptable. She nodded. “Thank you.”
Regent stared down at the bath as it filled.
He picked up a bottle that was sitting on the lip. Strawberry cream body wash.
Did he pour this in? What if she didn’t want any?
He decided to let her put it in herself.
For fuck’s sake.
He’d never been this indecisive in his life. This girl.
She had him tied up in knots. Sometimes, he thought that she wanted him. The way she stared at him . . . with lust and need.
She was definitely attracted to him.
And it was making it hard for him to fight his own attraction to her.
That’s why this is a mistake.
Taking care of her . . . even for this short time made him see what he could have.
And he fucking wanted it.
Even if she was being a bit of a brat at the moment and fighting his care. He understood it. He’d disappeared on her and now he was back, insisting on taking care of her.
He shouldn’t be here.
But there was no way he could walk away. Not while she was ill.
Turning off the bath, he tested the temperature.
Hmm. It seemed right to him.
Moving into the bedroom, he found her sitting on the side of the bed, taking out her braids.
The hair she’d freed was a frizzy mess. She tugged at one, making herself wince.
“Careful,” he barked.
She jumped. Shit. He hadn’t meant to speak so harshly.
“I need to take them out. Have to wash my hair. Itchy.”
Her voice sounded really raspy. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to lose her voice.
“Why did you put it up like that?” he asked.
She tensed for a moment. “Because I wanted to.”
Why did he get the feeling that she wasn’t telling him the whole truth?
He didn’t like that. She shouldn’t keep things from him. Not when he was in charge of her.
No matter her opinion on that.
She pulled the last of her hair free.
“I don’t think you should wash your hair. You might get tired.”
With a sigh, she stared up at him.
God, she looked defeated. Ill. Worn down.
Walking over, he crouched in front of her, placing his hands on her thighs.
“Baby, you know you can tell me anything. If there’s something going on . . . if something is wrong or you’re in trouble, I am here to help you.”
All she did was shake her head.
“Jilly,” he said firmly. “I need you to tell me if you’re in trouble.”
“Why would I be in trouble?” she asked. “I don’t have a life. I work in a library. Nothing interesting ever happens to me.”
Right.
Except . . . he still didn’t believe her.
“I need to get in the bath before it gets cold.”
She attempted to stand, but he pushed her back down. “Stay sitting. I’ll carry you to the bath.”
Jilly sighed. “Regent, it’s kind of you to want to look after me. But you don’t owe Mama anything, and you definitely don’t owe me anything. I don’t know what brought on the Florence Nightingale routine, but I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time now. I’m fine. And your guilt or feelings of responsibility aren’t necessary. Now, I’m gonna go have a bath, and not that I don’t appreciate your help, but you should really think about leaving.”
Without a word, he watched her stand. She didn’t sway, but he still kept a close eye on her as she made her way to the bathroom.
“Be careful getting in and out of the bath,” he ordered.
The door closed with a snick.
Irritated, but unsure if that feeling was aimed toward her or himself, he headed downstairs with the tray of food.
Gerald was looking through the cupboards and fridge. He turned, taking the tray from him. Victor was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of coffee.
“She liked the soup?” Gerald asked.
“Yes. She said to tell you it was delicious. Vic, what are you doing here?”
“I came to see my brother.”
As soon as Regent sat across the table, Gerald set a cup of coffee in front of him.