Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
A faint cry almost escaped from my throat at the thought, and I swallowed hard. “I—-” My mouth snapped shut. I wasn’t exactly sure what I wanted to say. All I knew was that this was too dangerous, and I was starting not to care that it was so.
“I just...” I took a deep breath and tried again. “Marcus—-”
His eyes blazed, and my voice faltered.
“That’s the first time you’ve said my name.”
His rough voice made me shiver, but his words just threw me back to the deep end. How else was I supposed to call him?
“Say it again, bambina.”
I said slowly, tentatively, “Marcus.”
The look in his dark eyes became hotter, and I shuddered as everything became clear.
Oh.
I tore my hands from his grasp-—
Oh!
And this time he let me go.
“Marcus.” His name spilled out in a helpless little tone, and when I saw his nostrils flare in response, I knew I hadn’t been imagining things.
This time I knew why my name on his lips made me feel strange, knew why his name on my lips seemed to have the same effect on him.
This time, I knew what he had known all along.
He wanted to have sex with me.
And I wanted to have sex with him.
The knowledge left me reeling. I was confused and breathless, disbelieving and uncertain. But most of all I was terrified, and without thinking, I licked my suddenly dry lips—-
His eyes blazed again, and I didn’t know whether to laugh or run away.
And I found myself asking dazedly, “Really?”
Something that simple could arouse him?
But Marcus only shrugged, arrogantly unrepentant. “Yes.” I supposed I should be thankful he was being honest.
“I’m a very sexual man.”
Or not.
I felt my breasts start to ache under my scuba suit, the pain unlike anything I had ever experienced before—-
Definitely not.
“Do you really think,” I whispered, “it’s possible for us to be friends?”
“No.” His lips twisted into a humorless smile. “But there’s no harm in trying, is there?”
Five
And so we tried to be friends, which was easier said than done since Marcus didn’t seem to understand what friends were supposed to be. As a friend, he wasn’t ever supposed to look at me like he wanted to ravish me. As a friend, he wasn’t ever supposed to bristle if he caught me talking to one of the local boys who had come to work at the estate. As a friend, he wasn’t ever supposed to act proprietary every time we headed out of town—-
There were a lot of things that he wasn’t supposed to do as a friend, but then who was I to talk?
As a friend, I wasn’t supposed to keep thinking about him like he was the only person that mattered. As a friend, I wasn’t supposed to ache when he was near, and I definitely shouldn’t feel guilty every time we were with my brothers.
It wasn’t like we had done anything wrong.
Right?
Tonight’s dinner was another semi-awkward affair, mostly because Marcus had managed to take the seat beside me on the table and for the past fifteen minutes, he had been torturing me with these tiny soft touches.
“Have some salad,” Marcus would say, and of course he’d make sure our fingers would come into contact as he gave me the bowl.
“Want some more water?” Marcus would ask, and at my nod he’d pour some into my glass, all the while leaning close – too, too close that his scent would seduce my body into melting.
Little things really, but when they were all added together, they were more than enough to drive me crazy.
This was not how friends were supposed to be—-
“Anneke?”
I glanced at him warily.
“Your napkin’s slipping.”
I stiffened. Crap. That sounded bad.
“Let me fix it for you,” he murmured dulcetly under his breath.
“It’s okay,” I said hastily. “I can—-”
But he had already reached for one corner of the napkin, and after whipping it out to straighten the creases, Marcus gently laid the napkin on my lap.
I reached for my glass of water, trying to act casual.
The fabric settled on my lap, just as his fingers caressed my knee.
I choked.
Seated at the head of the table, Willem paused in his discussion with Nic, asking politely, “Is everything alright?”
I quickly summoned a smile. “Yes.” I quietly shoved Marcus’ fingers off my knee. “I’m sorry for interrupting. Please carry on.”
On my other side, Fleur leaned towards me, saying slyly, “I saw that.”
I froze.
“Promise me you’ll help me sneak out next week,” she whispered, “and I promise to stay blind.”
I kicked her under the table. “You’re my sister. You’re not supposed to blackmail me.”
“Well, those guys—-” She nodded towards Jaak, Nic, and Willem, who were deep in discussion about something that had to do with our grandmother’s latest orders. “—-are our brothers, and you’re not supposed to have any secrets from them.” She smirked. “Aren’t you?”
Before I could tell Fleur what a horrible person she was, Willem suddenly addressed both of us, and we immediately straightened in our seats. He had always had this effect on us, probably because he had been more a parent to the others and me than our real parents were.