The Boss (Men of Hidden Justice #1) Read Online Melanie Moreland

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Men of Hidden Justice Series by Melanie Moreland
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Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
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She was beautiful. Her hair glimmered with subtle red in the light, and her long lashes rested on her cheeks, hiding her blue eyes I found bewitching. She was small but very feminine, with a full bust and curvy hips. I looked forward to the day she didn’t cower and try to hide the marks on her body. I wanted to watch as she grew stronger and confident. I had a feeling she would be a force to be reckoned with.

The very second I had seen her in the deserted building, something stirred within me. A deep, protective feeling, an almost frantic need to ensure her safety, had overtaken me. Despite what she had endured, there was an air of innocence about her—a sweetness that lingered. I found myself wanting to be shown that sweetness. The first time I touched her, a strange sensation of something relaxing inside my chest caught me off guard. It was unsettling.

When she woke and saw me standing over her, the fear in her eyes was nothing new to me. Yet with her, I wanted to erase that fear.

I knew she had seen too much, and I needed her silence. However, I wasn’t lying when I told her I didn’t kill innocents. My job was to protect them. I could have arranged to send her somewhere far away and have her watched and looked after, but something told me this small, frightened woman was in dire need of protection that only I could provide.

When she tried to kill herself, I knew there was only one option. The idea to marry her came out of the blue, but once it entered my mind, its sheer simplicity and rightness took hold, and I could not shake it. Intuitively, I knew it was right. How? I had no idea, but I always trusted my instincts. She needed me, and on some level, I was certain I needed her as well.

She was willing to die, obviously not caring about returning to the life she led. As such, as an alternative, I could marry her. She could leave behind the life she knew and join me in this one.

I wasn’t a benevolent man. I wasn’t given to gentleness or affection. The world I lived in was cold, brutal, and filled with blood. Nonetheless, when I could remove myself for brief time periods, I liked the thought of spending them in her company. Kissing her earlier hadn’t been in the plan, and her reaction to me was unexpected, but it pleased me. I had felt the roar of desire when my mouth was on hers, and with the way her body softened in my arms, I knew she felt it as well. I wanted to explore that with her.

My plan was simple. Tomorrow, Roza would help her with personal items, Alex would procure new papers, and I planned to punish the man who had so little regard for her well-being. It would be my wedding gift to her. I also had to pay a visit to my commander. I knew he would have heard I’d gotten married. Julian would be full of questions, and I would have to try to explain my actions and ask for his understanding. I was sure he would give it.

I couldn’t explain my attraction to Evie to myself, never mind to Julian, but there was no denying it. The relief I had felt when she let me lead her from the warehouse had been undeniable. Her quiet dignity despite everything going on around her had impressed me. In spite of what she had witnessed, she had trusted me enough to take care of her, to fall asleep beside me in my bed.

I woke her again, making sure she was all right, then let her drift off once more. I ran a finger down her cheek as I made plans. I would take Evie away for a few days to my island. It was private, isolated, and perfect to get to know each other. I would tell her of my life and my expectations for her. She could heal, rest, and come to terms with her new life.

She shifted, rolling onto her back, a frown crossing her face before she relaxed again. The blanket twisted, exposing her bare shoulder. The shirt she wore was far too big on her, but I liked seeing her in it. Her creamy skin beckoned, and I thought of how she felt in my arms. How she tasted under my tongue. Her passionate response. Desire began to build, but the dark mark of fading bruises cooled my ardor. The rage I felt knowing she’d been abused was only matched by the anger I felt toward the men and women who took advantage of the helpless. For the first time in my life, the need to care for someone, to look after them, was prominent. I could understand Vince’s unerring care for my sister a little better now.



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