Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 45819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
I took a breath and forced my fists to unfurl, but my attention remained fixed on her. She moved with a dancer’s grace. Even the way her slender fingers trailed over the produce was alluring, her touch gentle as she considered the fruit, hunting for the best apple in the bunch.
Unbidden, a memory I’d long suppressed stirred at the back of my mind. My mother had been graceful like that, beautiful and pure hearted despite the grubby neighborhood we’d lived in. She’d helped my father at the grocery store, tidying the space whenever she took me to visit him during one of his long shifts.
I shook my head sharply, dashing the memories away. That was a different lifetime; I’d been a different person back then, a sheltered, naïve child. Now, I understood how the world worked, and there was no room for grace or tenderness in my life.
And yet, I couldn’t stop watching her. All my muscles coiled tight with the effort of remaining still; I craved to cross the distance between us so that I could touch her delicate hand and capture her attention.
I wanted to see what color her eyes were. I’d witnessed her glittering tears, but I’d never seen her eyes open. At this distance, I couldn’t make out the finer details of her lovely face.
I crossed my arms over my chest as though that would force me to keep my hands to myself.
She turned her face toward Crawford, saying something that made the bastard nod stiffly, a disapproving frown pinching his features. Her shoulders slumped slightly, but she flashed him a bright smile and brushed a quick kiss over his cheek.
I bit back a growl and forced myself to remain still as a statue, watching as she walked away from the produce stall, brown bag of fruit in hand. He shadowed her, that fucking frown still fixed on his face.
Evelyn approached a man who was huddled in an alcove, a sign begging for money clutched in his hands. For a moment, contempt heated my blood. The man could change his life if he wanted to; he just wasn’t willing to make the hard choices necessary to survive.
Something tightened at the center of my chest when I finally noticed the small child who was tucked close to the man’s side, clothed in a dirty t-shirt and ripped jeans. Evelyn leaned down and offered them both a kind smile, extending the brown bag in offering. Hesitantly, the child reached out and took it from her. The man nodded in thanks and said something I couldn’t hear over the buzz of the crowd. Her smile faltered slightly, twisting with sadness for the space of a heartbeat before she pulled it back in place.
Crawford wrapped his arm around her and steered her away, pulling her back into the market and away from the pathetic man who would rather beg than do whatever was necessary to provide for his child.
My emotions surged, making me feel oddly edgy. Evelyn’s compassion touched something deep inside me—the remnants of the innocent boy who’d been raised in poverty. But at the same time, I loathed the memory of that weak, helpless child.
And I hated the dark memories of the day my innocence had died a brutal, agonizing death.
Gritting my teeth, I directed my hatred outward, choosing to blame the wretched beggar for his own misfortune and for neglecting his child.
And most of all, I hated George Crawford, the corrupt piece of shit who dared to touch innocent Evelyn with his dirty hands. The bastard held her like he was protecting her, when he was the reason that her life had been endangered. His ties to Los Zetas had gotten her kidnapped and beaten. She’d be dead if it weren’t for me.
I’d been the one to save her. Not him.
And yet, she leaned into him for support. She brushed her lips over his in a tender kiss. Her dainty hand clasped his as though he was her lifeline.
Contempt and jealousy curled my lips in a sneer. I took a single step toward them before I could stop myself, wanting nothing more than to rip him away from her and end his miserable life.
My movement caught her attention, and her pale green eyes flashed to mine. Her clear, peridot gaze punched me, knocking the air from my lungs. I went utterly still, as though I’d spook the beautiful creature if I made a sudden move.
I barely breathed as she stared at me, our gazes locked. She was several meters away from me, a flower stall separating us. But her stunning eyes hooked me like a lure, commanding my full attention.
Hunger gnawed at my gut, a keen desire I’d never experienced before. I wanted this woman. I wanted her innocence, her beauty, her quiet strength. Everything about her fascinated me, and I craved more of her attention. I couldn’t have broken from her gaze even if I’d wanted to.