Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 128980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
He straightens to full height and rolls his shoulders, like he could be trying to rid a weight resting there. “Just don’t try to give me the slip again.”
“Or you’ll spank me?”
“It was a figure of speech.”
“An inappropriate one, don’t you think?” Please say no. Please say no. Please say no. I don’t know what I’m thinking.
“Yes,” he mutters, looking around us, high and low, scoping every space there is. He has a fixed glower in place as he does it. “Why are you here?” he asks.
I look across to Heather, seeing her mouth lax and her champagne flute poised at her lips. “I’m meeting a friend.”
Sharp follows my line of sight and sighs. “Heather Porter.”
“How’d you know…?” My words disintegrate. Of course he knows. Pulling my braid over my shoulder and landing him with a contemptuous glare, I leave him on the pavement and make my way over to a dumbstruck Heather.
“Give me that drink,” I say, throwing myself into a chair. She either doesn’t hear me or totally ignores me, so I reach across the table and grab it myself. Swig! “Hello!”
She looks at me, all what the fuck?
“Don’t,” I say, shaking my head. Swig!
“Is that him?” she mumbles, not averse to pointing her glass at him. “The bodyguard?”
“Yes.” Swig!
“Oh, fucking hell.”
“I know.” Swig!
“Where’s the billboard?”
I swallow. “Huh?”
“The billboard.” Her eyes dart, genuinely looking around.
“What billboard?”
“The one he’s just fallen out of?”
I snort my repulsion and swig yet again. “He’s a twat.”
“A fit twat.”
“Heather, this is not an appropriate conversation to be having about my bodyguard.”
“Give me a break!” she laughs, properly amused. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about him in bed. He’s solid. Tall. Gorgeous.”
I look over my shoulder when Heather’s delighted stare starts to move, clearly following Sharp. He’d better not be coming over here! He’s not. He sits down a few tables up, looking huge in the small chair. And he might look relaxed, but I can see every muscle strung under his shirt and trousers. He’s like a giant tiger, poised and waiting for an attack. “Not at all,” I mumble quietly, more for myself than Heather. “Anyway, he’s greying at the temples.”
“Oh!” Heather chuckles, and I return my attention to her, swiping up more champagne. “And now she’s searching desperately for reasons to find him unattractive.”
“I don’t need to search. There are plenty to choose from.”
“Like?”
“Like he’s bully, for a start. Heavy-handed and forceful.” I know deep down there was no intent to hurt me or scare me, and he didn’t. What’s actually scared me each time he’s come close, spoken, or touched me, is my reaction. The internal battle I’m having while fighting to maintain a strong front is exhausting me already.
And he’s been with me for less than an hour.
Twenty-four/seven? And for how long?
I shrink in my chair and have another sip of my fizz. “Change the subject,” I plead, and instantly regret it when Heather’s lips straighten. There’s only one other subject that should be addressed right now, and I can’t decide if it’s more of a situation than the man sitting behind me and why he’s sitting behind me.
“Saffron saw him. Said he looked well,” Heather says tentatively, and wisely, too. Or maybe she shouldn’t have said it at all. I don’t need to hear that. Saffron doesn’t know the nasty details.
As far as she and everyone else is concerned, Sebastian led me onto his dark, cocaine-lined path. That’s bad enough, and all anyone needs to know. Sebastian is a model, too, chiseled in the face as well as in the body. He makes girls drool…but he’s troubled. Terribly troubled, and he got me into trouble, too. He has an addictive personality, as well as an addictive nature. But he’s a lost cause. Even his parents have given up on him.
“Is he clean?” I ask.
Heather shrugs. “Saffron said his eyes were clear and his body not as strung as it always used to be. But who knows?”
“Hmmm.” I look off into the distance, reflecting on those dark times.
“So, where’s he sleeping?” Heather cuts into my thoughts before they take hold, and I’m grateful. But her question confuses me…until she nods past me.
I find myself peeking behind me again. He’s watching me like a hawk, intensely. The shaky breath that escapes me is barely evident, yet my instinct tells me he detected it all the same. Then our eyes meet and he shifts on his chair. Conjuring up a filthy look, a stupid defense mechanism, I aim and fire.
“Good question,” I mutter, watching his eyes fall to my mouth. I don’t mean to, really I don’t, but my betraying tongue slips out and slides across my bottom lip. Sharp shifts in his seat again, his nostrils flaring as he looks away.
“Then you need to clarify, because if Mr. Gorgeous-Pants over there is staying at your place, then I might, too.”