Total pages in book: 170
Estimated words: 160791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 804(@200wpm)___ 643(@250wpm)___ 536(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 804(@200wpm)___ 643(@250wpm)___ 536(@300wpm)
“Yes, please do,” Rose says, making every hair on the back of my neck rise. Shit. I throw Conner’s men a dark look, and they speed up their departure, looking past me full of caution.
“I need the restroom,” Brad says, making a hasty getaway.
“Yeah, me too,” Ringo grunts, following.
“Wait for me,” Otto calls, leaving me alone with Rose.
I look up to the heavens for some backup, before pulling a smile from nowhere and facing her. She’s a fucking vision, a blazing, beautiful vision in red, and everything about her gown sets my insides alight. “Baby,” I purr, arms out, beckoning her to me.
She doesn’t entertain me. “You’re in trouble, Black.”
I pout. “It wasn’t my fault.” I start to plead my innocence, daring to get closer. “I swear, it was unexpected. I’ve sent them away. I’ll deal with it another time.”
She looks past me to the cars driving away. “Who was it?”
I decide to tell the truth, even if, selfishly, it’s tactical. “It was the man who raped Goldie.”
As expected, she looks at me in horror. “What?”
I shrug. “James asked me to find him. I asked an associate in London to look into it. Turns out the guy was in Panama.” I thumb over my shoulder. “I only found out this morning. I didn’t think they’d turn up with him today.”
“What are you going to do?”
I have no idea why she’s asking. Given my history, she knows full well what happens to a rapist if they’re unfortunate enough to cross my path. Admittedly, I would have taken the greatest of pleasure in ending him, might have even risked the wrath of my wife on our special day to do it. But Brunelli is Goldie’s demon to end. Not mine. Not James’s. “What am I going to do?” I ask, swooping in and claiming her, feeling her soften in my arms. “Nothing.”
Her suspicion is warranted as she leans back, letting me kiss her front, from her throat to her belly. “I don’t believe you.”
“He’s not my demon, baby.” I look up at her. “She doesn’t know we’ve found him yet. Let’s keep it that way.” Goldie, the uptight she-warrior, is as carefree as I’ve ever seen her. She needs that. Uninterrupted time to let her hair down, wear a dress, and drink without fear of attack.
Rose smiles, her compassion and understanding shining through. It’s just another reason why I’m infatuated with her. “She’s like another woman.” She takes my arms, squeezing my biceps as I haul her back up. “I need to give you your gift.”
“Anything to do with the big crate out back that’s covered in sheeting?”
“You saw it?”
“You can’t miss it.” I throw an arm over her shoulder and lead her to where I know it to be. “I bet it’s not an ice sculpture,” I quip, my face straight, earning an elbow in my side. I have to admit, though, I’m dead curious about what this illusive ice sculpture actually is.
“Are you ready?” she asks, breaking free from me and taking the edge of the cover.
I slip my hands into my pockets, relaxed, smiling on the inside at her excitement. “Ready,” I confirm, and she whips off the cover revealing a live-sized imitation of my jet ski. I let out a puff of laughter, as I wander around it, taking in the incredible detail. It’s all accounted for, the art, the streamline curves, even the controls on the handlebars. I smile, reaching the back and dropping to my haunches, finding what I knew I would.
Danny.
Just Danny.
Because that is who I am to Rose. Not The Brit. Not The Angel-faced Assassin. Not Mister, Kid, a monster, or a murderer.
Just . . . Danny.
Ironic that my actual ski is probably still smoking as I stare at a frozen version of my machine. I rise again, doing another lap, taking in the detail, how it sparkles, my hand running over the ice. It’s beautiful, mesmerizing. Like a massive fucking diamond.
I would admire it all day if . . .
I peek at Rose, and the subtle concave of her chest tells me she’s read my mind. I jerk my head in order, and she drops the cover, sauntering over, slipping the top half of her dress off and pushing it to her waist, and as soon as she’s within reach, I seize her. “Consummation?” I whisper, making her bite her lip through a small grin.
She pushes her naked breasts into my chest, and I reach out and place a hand on the beautiful ice sculpture, holding it there for a few moments before cupping her boob. “Ready?”
She inhales sharply. “Yes.” Her desire-drenched voice sends more blood to my dick. I need to get us out of sight quickly. I grab her hand and haul her through the doors, pacing to my office urgently, aware that Rose is half naked.