Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
“Son of a mother trucker,” I stammer out, really annoyed with the fact that I didn’t find something to use as a crutch when I didn’t do the one-legged hop inside my room. No way was I going to face Santiago Martinez looking like I couldn’t use my two feet and walk out of what I’m assuming must be his penthouse.
“Oh no, you don’t. No getting hurt a second time on my watch.” Santiago comes barreling towards me, and I swear to all things holy the man is a force to be reckoned with. His jaw is made of steel, his eyes hot and fiery. No shirt, so his muscles are on full display, his broad shoulders muscular in a way you know he has no problem working out, eight-pack washboard abs. Which, by the way, how is that even possible? I figured when I saw them on television, magazines, or social media, they were airbrushed. Clearly not the case here. The two lines that slide into a “V” along with the gray sweatpants are the last thing I see before I’m swooped into his arms. How that’s even possible, I have no idea, but I am, and my arms are looped around his neck, worried that my weight may be too much and he’ll drop me on my good ankle. A double whammy is not what I’m after.
“I can walk. I was doing fine until you macho-manned your way through the house.” I don’t bother thanking him for taking care of me, not with the inexcusable behavior he threw my way last night. In fact, I move my hands from around his neck, not wanting to feel his smooth, muscular skin, or admit what it does to me either. Nope, no way, no how. I need to move, and fast. If he’d let me down, I’d call a car service, get out of his way forever, figure out what the hell really happened last night, and start over.
“Keep telling yourself that.” I’m pouting, there’s no other explanation, crossing my arms over my chest while looking at him and seeing a grin tug at his lips, eyes on the curve of my breasts that are only amplified with how I’m situated.
“Oh Jesus, you hated me yesterday. Now you’re this way. What the hell is your problem? You’re giving me whiplash.” I lay my arms in my lap. If he drops me, well, I’ll have to deal with that when it happens. Maybe I’ll land on my ass. There’s enough cushion back there to break my fall. Santiago ignores my question, which is just as well. There’s nothing to say. The sooner I’m closer to the door, my bag, and shoes, the faster I’ll be in the comfort of my own home. My eyes stray away from his, not wanting to see the glare or smolder. The man is a damn conundrum.
Instead, my eyes are glued to my surroundings as I try to ignore how good he smells and feels. I’m more stunned by the other side of beauty in the room we’re currently walking in. Excuse me, Santiago is walking in, seeing as how I’m firmly ensconced in his arms. The penthouse is completely decked out. I mean, there’s a Christmas tree in the corner, lights on, fully decorated, a star on the top. There’s even garland strung here and there, not overbearing but enough to give a bit of holiday cheer, exactly what I wouldn’t expect. I mean, Christmas is only a few days away, and even my tree isn’t up. It was hard to get in the spirit when it’s just you out in LA while your family is still in Nevada, my own doing of course. My parents offered to send a plane ticket, the saying goes, “Obstinate, headstrong girl!” Obviously, it’s why I’m in the situation I’m in now.
“Well, aren’t you full of surprises.” I’m unable to bite my tongue. Santiago hums his reply, choosing not to speak as he makes his way towards the couch. “I think you’re going in the wrong direction; the door is that way.” I point to where I’ve cased out where things are in his beautifully, well-designed home.
“Nope, we’re going to sit right here, and we’re going to figure this out together.” He makes his point as the backs of his knees hit the seat of the couch and he sits down, my rear at his crotch, feeling something I was least expecting. My head whips towards his. “Ignore it. I am,” he grunts. This man. I can’t figure out what to do with him, and I’m not sure that I want to either, but with the way he’s kept his arms surrounding my body, apparently, I’m not leaving anytime soon.
FOURTEEN
Santiago
“Cadence, start from the beginning. Things aren’t adding up. Even I’m not a fool enough to believe you’re an escort or a hooker. I’m sorry I insinuated that. The only substantial reason I can give you is my brother. He’s a dick of epic proportions.” Cadence huffs out a laugh. I’m guessing she’s currently thinking no one can beat that position quite like I am.