Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 134654 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134654 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Her flaws could be called ugly—an imperfection to be hidden. But it only made me fall deeper in love with her. She had the strength to bare them—even using them to define how others saw her.
The doctor peered at the blood covering Cleo. Urgency sprang into her tone. “Are you bleeding?”
Cleo shook her head. “No, it’s not mine.” Touching the large bump on her temple, she added, “The only injury is from when they knocked me out.”
My hands curled into fists. My fucking father would pay. He’ll pay a hundred times over.
Turning to face me, the doctor looked over my shoulder at Mo and Grasshopper loitering in the background. “You can go now, gentlemen. If I need anything, I’ll call.”
“Sure thing,” Grasshopper said.
They shuffled immediately to the exit.
I was glad. I didn’t want them seeing Cleo if the doctor asked her to remove the blanket.
I crossed my arms, bracing my legs against the pain, and waited for the doctor to tend to my woman.
Doctor Laine cleared her throat. “You, too, Mr. Killian. I’ll call when we’re done here.”
I scowled. “I’d rather not.”
When I refused to budge, the doctor narrowed her eyes. “Privacy would be appreciated. She’ll be perfectly fine with me. I want to do a full examination.”
“If you’re asking me to leave behind the only thing of value I have left and trust you with her life—well, you don’t know me very well.” Grasshopper lingered over the threshold, not entirely leaving as I’d requested. I asked him, “You checked her credentials?”
Grasshopper frowned. “Of cour—”
“Arthur … it’s fine,” Cleo interrupted. “Just go. I’ll come find you when it’s your turn.”
My heart clobbered against my ribs. Why did the thought of being away from her break me out in a cold sweat?
Because the last time you were apart, she disappeared for eight years and then became a toy for your fucked up father.
I swallowed hard.
The doctor glowered. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear you discussing my skill set.” She pointed at the door. “I’m not asking you to trust me. I’m telling you to. She’s in better hands with someone experienced in medicine. Now leave. I need to tend to your wife.”
Cleo’s face broke out in an adoring smile, her eyes locking with mine.
Wife.
My legs threatened to topple like a hurricane-lashed tree. I’d never heard anything I wanted more. There’d never been any doubt that Cleo would end up becoming my wife, but hearing it spoken by a complete stranger made it entirely real.
I couldn’t help it.
Crossing the small space, I captured Cleo’s cheeks and kissed her on the lips.
She froze, then softened in my hands. A soft moan escaped her as the tip of my tongue flickered over her bottom lip.
Wife. Mine.
The feverish lust sprang into being—a ghost that could never be exorcised.
Her mouth parted, welcoming me to take more.
Doctor Laine coughed loudly.
I smiled against Cleo’s lips. “Will you be okay without me … wife?”
Her entire body deliquesced, her green eyes glowing. “I’ll be fine.” She kissed me one last time. “And for the record, I love that word.”
“Time to leave, Mr. Killian. My patience isn’t infinite.” Doctor Laine tapped her foot.
Grasshopper appeared behind me and tugged my ridiculous stolen Hawaiian shirt. “Come on. Let the women heal in peace. I think you deserve a drink.”
Ignoring his pulling, I couldn’t tear my eyes from Cleo. “I’ll be back soon.”
She nodded. “Can’t wait.”
“Drink, dude. Let’s celebrate the Dagger Rose bonfire.”
There would be celebration but no alcohol. I would abstain until I fixed the mess inside my brain.
Stealing one last kiss from the woman who kept my heart beating, I allowed my VP to drag me from the room.
Two damn hours.
Two interminable hours of waiting.
I sat with a single shot of untouched whiskey, staring at the wall. All I wanted to do was slip sideways on the couch and slam into sleep, but every time my eyes closed, Hopper was there with his damn annoying voice and his pestering rules.
Don’t fall asleep.
You can’t go to sleep until your concussion has been assessed again.
No sleeping.
Over and fucking over.
I was ready to knock the motherfucker out just so he would go to sleep and leave me in peace.
Even though I was ready to wring the guy’s neck, it didn’t mean I wasn’t grateful. Even as I called him a cocksucker and a nag, he knew I appreciated his attempts to keep me alive. I would never admit it to him, but the way my brain throbbed and my vision flickered, I honestly didn’t trust in my ability to wake up.
Grasshopper was a reliable friend. Wallstreet was my savior, mentor, and advisor. I trusted both men explicitly, but at the same time, I always understood that my partnership with Wallstreet was for mutual gain. Wallstreet wanted me to transform and rule the Corrupts—which I did. He wanted me to become friends with senators, journalists, and police—which I did.