Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 126060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
“You do think they’ll eventually go back to Croatia and kill the riders if they can,” Geno ventured, indicating for her to start up the stairs.
The spiraling staircase was wide and gave Amaranthe the impression of climbing her way to the stars. She had no idea why, other than the clear stairs or the white modern, very cool enclosed banister that swirled in a long spiral from the eighth floor to the tenth in one continuous four-foot-high rail appeared to go on forever.
“I have a very strong feeling, Geno, but that’s all. New York has even fewer riders here than Croatia. These assassins take their time. They have patience. I think they’re still here, so they aren’t finished. That means they’re going to at least try for a rider.”
“And you believe that rider is me.”
“You set yourself up deliberately by sending your brothers away and then you set a trap with that wallet.” She paused on the stair above him and flashed a smile over her shoulder. “You had no way of knowing I’d intercept the wallet.”
His hand swept over her hair, for one moment tangling his fingers in it. A little shiver of awareness crept down her spine.
“No, but I’m grateful you did. We’ll be able to figure this out so much faster together.”
Even the sound of his voice was appealing to her. It was becoming harder not to make a fool of herself by flinging herself at him. Not only was she physically attracted to him, but she especially liked that he treated her as if she had a brain.
She had never had a chance to share her life with anyone else. She always thought she would have a difficult time being with another person for a prolonged period of time. She hadn’t considered herself lonely. She was used to spending time alone, and it felt normal to her—until she was with Geno. Until her shadow and Geno’s shadow had tangled together.
“Just how compromised are our shadows?” She paused at the very top of the stairs and once more turned to look at him.
Geno crowded close to her. “I wasn’t about to let you get away from me. We’d both be in trouble if either of us tried to walk away.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “You risked your ability to be a shadow rider? You were that certain? You risked both our abilities?”
He nodded, his eyes darkening as his gaze drifted over her face. “I knew you were the one for me almost from the moment I felt your presence. Once I was in your mind there was no turning back, so I made certain there was no mistake.”
“You have a ruthless side.”
There was no humor in his smile. He looked utterly dangerous. Heat rushed through her veins and a dark thrill crept down her spine.
“It matches yours,” he pointed out. “We make a good pair.”
She liked that he saw that in her. Not only saw that she could be merciless but appreciated it. She was no shrinking violet. She couldn’t afford to be when she worked alone for months at a time undercover, oftentimes investigating an Archambault. They were men and women with extraordinary senses. One walked a fine line when observing them.
“I think we do,” she agreed.
She turned back to step onto the wide-open floor that was the primary bedroom suite. She could see the bed facing the long wall of windows. It was on a raised platform providing the best view of the water. She skirted the four-foot divider between the suite and staircase and entered the suite. Like the rooms on the other floors, this one was also white tile with white columns, although there were built-in bookshelves on the far end of the room.
“If your grandmother had ties to the Archambault line, and Stefano is your first cousin, that means he also has the Archambault blood in him as well.” She couldn’t help wandering around the floor. The room was extraordinary, just like the rest of the floors. The architect who had designed the apartment was famous for his work and rightly so. There was a second grand piano, this one smaller than the one downstairs but no less impressive.
“Yes. All the cousins have a bit of the Archambault blood in them, thanks to our grandmother.” Geno reached out and gently shackled her wrist. “You’re going to fall down. I can feel that headache getting worse. You can ask me all kinds of questions, Amara, but at least lie on the bed. Our grandmother was a cousin several times removed. Still, she had the bloodline and passed it to us.”
He tugged her gently toward the elevated bed. It was much larger up close than it looked from a distance. When she hesitated, he picked her up and placed her facedown in the middle of the king-sized bed, coming down beside her. With a single click of a remote, he lowered privacy screens to darken the room. She hadn’t realized the light was contributing to the headache.