Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
“So you didn’t lie, just omitted the whole jewelry designer thing.”
“Because I owed the full truth to my fucking kidnapper, huh?” she asked, reaching for a flute of champagne off a passing tray, then chugging it in one long swig.
“Those are some nice hands,” I said, watching her put the flute down, then reaching for the hand in question.
“What are you doing?” she hissed, but I was sure there was a flash of heat in her eyes at the contact.
“Don’t you hear the music? We should be dancing,” I told her, lacing my fingers through hers and holding on tight, knowing she would try to yank her hand back.
“I am not going to dance with you,” Shawn objected in a whisper-yell.
“And yet here we go. Making our way to the dance floor,” I said, pulling her along with me. I was putting a lot of faith to rest in the idea of her not wanting to embarrass her family, so she wouldn’t make a scene. Luckily, I was right. And despite her fingers curling into the back of my hand and her nails digging painful crescents into my skin to show her anger, she eventually fell into stride with me as I pulled her toward the dance floor where several couples had gathered as the band eased into another slow song.
I swung her out wide before pulling her in.
Close.
My palm pressed to her lower back as my other hand continued to hold hers. At the contact of our bodies brushing, her fingernails stopped biting into my skin. I was sure at that moment that she felt the same electric pulse skitter across her nerve endings that I did when our bodies touched again.
“Adnan is alright, by the way,” I told her, watching as her eyes attempted to burn holes into me.
“If you’re fishing for an apology for drugging you both, you’re not going to get it,” she told me, jaw tight.
“I’m not. I’m impressed, actually,” I told her.
“Oh, gee. My life is complete. I impressed the asshole billionaire who drugs people for fun.”
“It wasn’t for fun,” I told her. “We were supposed to be discussing the whole Adams situation. Then you went and got distracted by my body,” I told her, unable to stop the grin that spread across my face at her horrified look that she tried to cover up—unsuccessfully, I might add—with anger.
“As far as I am concerned, nothing happened in that villa.”
“No?” I asked, pressing my hand more firmly into her back, making her front crush to my chest.
And I felt the way her breath caught at the contact.
“No,” she said, voice firm, but whether she realized it or not, her body swayed into mine as I moved her around the dance floor.
“Has anyone told you how beautiful you look this evening?” I asked, feeling her body jolt at the words, unprepared for them.
I had a feeling that keeping Shawn on her toes would be a favorite pastime for me.
I mean, not that I was thinking about a future with her or anything. That would be absurd.
“Stop,” Shawn demanded, but there was very little strength behind her words.
“Stop what?”
“Acting like we’re friends, Bellamy. You’re a kidnapper.”
“And you, darling, are a murderer,” I said, making her whole body go ramrod straight.
“Shut up. There are people everywhere,” she hissed, looking around with wide eyes.
“There are plenty of places to go here where there aren’t people,” I told her, spinning her a little closer toward the edge of the dance floor, trying to do so discreetly so she didn’t know my intentions until it was too late.
To that, I got a snort.
“Right. Like I would go anywhere with your psychotic ass,” she said, shaking her head as I inched her even closer to the edge of the dance floor.
“Oh, I think you would,” I said.
“No fucking way.”
“Hey, is that your aunt and uncle?” I asked, spotting the couple walking up to Nasir. The family resemblance was too strong to be questioned. “Maybe I should go over and have a chat with them,” I said, releasing her suddenly, pretending to walk in the direction of her family unit.
“No!” Shawn hissed, reaching for my hand, swinging me back, then leading me off of the dance floor, “Fine,” she added, clearly unhappy that she’d lost the advantage.
She wasn’t as familiar with the venue as I was, so as soon as we passed the tables, I took over, leading her down the hallway where the bathrooms were located, then through a door that was labeled for staff only, but led to a back room where they stored all the various decor for different types of events.
But that wasn’t quite private enough for me.
So I led her toward the back to a smaller room where all the linens were stored on metal shelves lining two of the walls.