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)
He cups my chin. His eyes are dark and hungry as they pull away from my gaze and travel down to my mouth.
My heart beats rapidly in my chest, heady and desperate for him to kiss me. Maybe it’s the vodka that courses through my veins, but I desperately need to feel his lips on mine right now.
“Dove,” he says, and our breath mingles together when he does. The faint hint of an earthy wood dances on my lips. His scotch. The desire to lick the peppery taste of him has a small moan leaving my lips.
The sudden force of his lips slamming against my own makes me quiver. Or whimper. I’m not even sure.
All I know is that his kiss is firm and demanding. It commands me to open to him and give him everything I have.
A part of me screams not to, that this is part of the ruse. But as my mouth opens to his, and his tongue sweeps inside, all those thoughts are brushed away. Instead, I find my hands sliding up his chest.
This isn’t real.
It shouldn’t feel this good.
But it does.
I push away my thoughts and all the things I know I should be thinking right now, and instead, I give in to the kiss.
Allowing him to deepen it.
Allowing myself to become lost in it.
Our tongues collide. His arms wrap around my back.
There is no space separating us now.
This kiss is different than the last one. Yes, it’s still under false pretense, but it feels different. It feels real. Too real.
The notion has me pulling away, panting.
Alaric dips his head down and looks at me.
“Show me your boat,” I whisper.
“No.” His words take me by surprise. A smile curls up his lips. “Little dove, what are you looking for on my boat?”
“Nothing,” I respond, my voice quick and shaky.
“As much as I liked the kiss, do you think I’m an idiot?”
I push my hand off his chest and stand.
“Little dove,” he muses.
“Phoenix. Repeat after me. Phoenix. P. H. O. E. N. I. X. That’s my name!” I scream. Clearly, the booze has gotten to me because this is not a part of my master plan of seduction. Which has failed, apparently.
“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet,” he chides.
“We are not Romeo and Juliet.” I step back from where he’s sitting as he moves to stand.
“We could be.” He approaches me, and it feels like I’m trapped in a tight space with nowhere to go.
“Never going to happen.”
“But didn’t it almost …”
He steps toward me, his hand reaching out. It starts to run down my arm until it’s enclosed around my wrist.
“We could fuck,” he mocks. I step back, but he follows. It’s a wicked dance.
“No. We can’t,” I hiss. “I don’t want you.”
Lies. My attraction to him is painfully obvious, from every whimper to every moan. The evidence screams of my lie, but I keep my back straight and tell the lie anyway.
“Then why does your skin heat when I touch it? Why do you tremble beneath my fingers?” Again, he lifts his hand, and this time I swat it away. Anger fuels me.
“Don’t touch me,” I hiss like a viper ready to snap.
“Are you sure?”
His brow lifts in a mocking gesture, and I grind my teeth at his question. “Yes.”
“If you say so. I guess that means you’re not hungry for dinner.” With a large self-satisfied smile on his face that I so desperately want to smack off him, he starts to walk away.
“Wait.” He stops and turns to look back at me. “Let me and George go.” My hands move to the side of my hips as I prepare for a showdown.
“But what message would that send?”
“That you’re not a monster.”
“But that’s where you’re wrong, dove. I am, and your father made me one.” My mouth opens and shuts because I don’t know what to say to his comment.
“Then keep me. Don’t do this to George. He doesn’t deserve it.” My words come out as a plea, desperate to save this man my father calls a friend.
“You don’t have to worry about George,” he retorts in cold sarcasm, and I bite down hard on my lower lip at his blank and empty stare. “He’s not on this boat.”
By the time I make it back into my stateroom, I can barely control the pain I’m feeling. When the door slams shut behind me, I allow the tears to cascade down my cheeks. I’m all alone here. There’s no one to help me.
You can help yourself. You aren’t helpless.
I just have to remember the plan. No more kissing. No more forgetting that Alaric Prince is not a good man.
He is the villain in this story. He will pay.
I’ll make him.
My hand reaches up, and I swipe at the wetness under my eyes.