Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 104729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
It’s much bigger than I had imagined, but from what I have heard, Alaric Prince lives on his yacht.
When I’m standing close enough, I can see on the side of the boat is the name that makes me cringe. Empire.
It makes me want to turn back. I don’t need a reminder he is the king here, but he’s about to find out, unlike his little soldiers, I’m no peasant.
There is no turning back now, so with my head held high and my shoulders pulled back, I make my last approach, tearing down walls that I never knew I had inside me until I embarked on this mission.
Soon I’m standing in front of one of his men. The man is tall and jacked. He looks like he spends half his life in the gym and the other half probably torturing people for fun.
As he looks at me, I wonder if I’m his next victim, but before I can turn around, he’s stepping aside and allowing me to pass.
The party isn’t in full swing yet; only a few people milling around the deck. They are all drinking and laughing, but that’s why I’m here early. I plan to slip in and mingle, and when more guests arrive, I’ll sneak beneath the party deck and look around.
If what George says is true, and Alaric Prince does live here, the guns could be on this boat, or maybe at least an address or something.
I keep walking as I allow my eyes to take in my surroundings.
I don’t see George, but if he said he’d be here backing me, then he will. And knowing George, I won’t see him unless I need him.
I’m on the deck when I see Alaric from the corner of my eye. Tiny goosebumps form on my exposed skin as he makes his way over to me.
He looks dashing as always, dressed in black pants and a crisp white button-down with the sleeves rolled to his elbows.
The worst part is the way he looks at me. The way his full lips tip up slightly on the right side of his face into a perfect smirk is downright sinful.
One that says he knows just how perfect he is.
Too bad he’s the enemy. If he wasn’t, I might allow myself to get lost in him for a moment.
He’s not the man you fall in love with.
He’s not the type you hang your hopes and dreams on.
He’s the man who uses you and then spits you out.
It’s a good thing he’s the enemy. I can’t afford to let myself get lost in anyone, especially someone so deadly.
The closer he gets, the more unnerved I get. His eyes trail over me, starting on my legs and moving to the valley between my breasts until our gaze locks.
His blue eyes are stormy.
Full of emotions I can’t place.
I see lust.
I feel it. It exudes through the strained muscles in his face and neck.
I feel the lust too. It’s thick in the air, making my skin heat. My cheeks flush at the way he looks me up and down.
His gaze slithers over me seductively.
He’s so damn enticing, but I need to remind myself why I’m here. I’m not here for that. And as much as he warms my body with his stare, I can’t get lost in the fire he stokes within me.
“What would you like to drink?” he asks as he places his hand on the small of my back and walks me toward the bar. A few people are already standing there, but I know he won’t wait. Alaric doesn’t wait. The crowd parts for us as we walk past them.
Like the Red Sea. Like a king.
Well, technically a prince, but something tells me his name is not enough for the man that he is.
“Glass of champagne,” I respond.
The bubbles will loosen my nerves. I’ll need all the help I can get if I’m going to sneak around this place.
He’s quick to get me my glass, and I’m even quicker to drink it.
Just as I suspected, it calms me. It helps me believe that maybe I can pull this off.
After a long sip, I lower my glass to smile at him, batting my eyelashes like a seductive temptress.
“This is beautiful,” I say.
“Thank you.” He turns from me briefly, looking around the open deck, and gives a nod to someone. The man looks vaguely familiar. I think it’s one of his henchmen who was with him at the club. Once he seems satisfied with whatever silent message he is trying to convey, he turns his attention back to me. “Now that I have you here”—cue grin—“and we can hear each other, what brings you to the Bahamas?”
“Probably the same as you.” I run my fingers up and down the stem of the champagne flute as I lift my shoulders.