Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
I pretend to be curious about where she was going and why, even though I know every last detail already. It pays to have a team of PIs on retainer. “A wedding, huh?”
“Yes, a wedding. Which you would have known if you’d bothered to check before pulling that stunt back there. And there are no more flights out tonight, and even if there were, I think I’m probably on a no-fly list now. So thanks a bunch.”
Where some people see problems, I see solutions. “Don’t stress, Sweet Cheeks. I’ll get you where you need to go.”
I wouldn’t let her miss her sister’s wedding. I wouldn’t let her go without me either, so here we are.
Her eyes snap wide, arms crossed, pushing up her cleavage, which only serves to make me salivate. The thought of getting those pert little nipples that are poking through her shirt into my mouth is jamming up my logical thought process.
She stops walking in the middle of a crowded area in front of the arrival and departure monitors.
“Get out of the way.” A forty-something dude in flip-flops and a Vegas t-shirt snaps, shouldering his way by.
Rage envelops me as he knocks Natalie off balance with the enormous duffel hanging on his shoulder, and like a cat striking at a mouse, I’ve got my hand around the strap of his bag, swinging him around to face me.
“What the fuck, man?” He sneers as I tug him my way until we are chest to chest.
“Watch where you’re fucking going. You practically knocked my wife over.” The words feel like sweet honey butter on my tongue as Natalie shoots me a shocked look and I give duffel bag guy a hard shove forward. “Nobody disrespects my wife.”
The word feels so fucking good, I had to try it on again.
Natalie is shaking her head, her brunette waves breaking around her shoulders.
“Wife?” She says as soon as he’s out of earshot.
I shrug, offering nothing more.
“Insane. I can’t believe I signed off on your paperwork yesterday because clearly, there is a lot going on up there besides anger issues.” She stabs a finger toward my head and taps the toe of her little black ballet sort of shoe on the concrete as announcements on the terminal loudspeakers make her raise her voice. “And, to get to the wedding on time now, I can rent a car, but it’s an eight-hour drive! I’d have to drive all freaking night! Which, I guess, is what I’ll have to do, isn’t it?”
I nod, lifting my chin on a sniff. I like that I’ve got her so upside down that she’s forgetting the details already. “But how are you going to rent a car without your driver’s license? Or a credit card? You said you lost your wallet.”
She growls up at the flickering fluorescent lights, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Damn it.”
“That’s why you were using your passport to board the flight.”
She glares as I take a step back into her, and she responds by backing up until a huge concrete column ends her retreat.
I brush my knuckles down the heat of her cheek, holding her eyes with mine, and an inch of the tension in her shoulders falls away. Such a good girl.
“If I miss my sister’s wedding, I will never forgive you.”
Then I put my finger to her lips, enjoying the lingering fury on her face. “Do you trust me?” I ask, taking my finger away.
She coughs and scoffs. “I have a degree in psychology. You’re meeting the criteria for several mental illnesses right now, so, no, I do not trust you.”
She will soon enough. “I’ll admit, I’ve been crazy since I saw you in the bar, baby. And back then, I didn’t even know your name.” I inhale just above her head, drawing in more of her sweet scent, then finish. “Since the second I saw you, you’ve been in every one of my thoughts.”
She hesitates, staring me down. I’m fighting the urge to just stare at her nipples for the rest of the day, but I want her to know I’m listening to her. Hearing her. Seeing her.
“I can’t imagine any of those thoughts are reasonable. Because you are wildly unreasonable and yeah, dangerous.” She nods toward where we were standing when I schooled duffel bag man on how to treat what’s mine.
“That’s accurate. If we don’t wrap up this little tiff soon, I’m not sure I’ll be able to control myself. And then security really will have something to charge us with: public indecency.”
“In your dreams,” she snorts, rolling her shoulders back as travelers move by, shooting us concerned looks.
I grin. She’ll find out all about my dreams soon enough, and I can’t wait. “While I was sitting in that godforsaken anger management training, my PIs were busy collecting all the info on you. I had them working on your identity since last night, but they were coming up empty with no name and barely a flash of your face on the security footage from the restaurant.”