Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
West grinned against his skin. “Why’s that?”
“We could have been doing this for days if he hadn’t interrupted us that morning.” He threaded his fingers through West’s hair and pulled up so he could look him in his face. He smashed his nose into West’s. “Days,” he repeated, wringing a laugh from him.
“Yeah, well…you’re worth the wait.” West pressed a kiss to Jin’s grumpy lips, changing them into a sweet smile.
He pulled free of Jin’s body and dealt with the condom. Then he climbed into bed, pulling the covers over them so they were snuggled together. He’d just assumed Jin was a post-sex cuddler, mostly from the fact that he woke every morning to Jin wrapped around him like an octopus preparing to devour its freshly caught meal.
The prince proved him right by releasing a happy sigh, as he wiggled even closer.
But all those smiles died off, and West could guess where his mind traveled.
“I know it’s too late to ask now, but are you sure you’re okay? The shooter…”
“I’m fine. The guys are all fine. Everyone we care about is safe,” West reassured him, pressing kisses to his forehead. “I’m just sorry that we missed that last one until it was almost too late.”
Jin shivered and West tightened his arms. “We’ll be more careful.”
“Can I request that you cancel any public appearances like that for now? Anything where we don’t have complete control of your surroundings and who is near you. We’ve got to make it harder for these assholes while we work on getting this contract taken down.”
The prince nodded, his face brushing his shoulder. “I’ll tell Qin later. We’ll use my father’s health as an excuse. No more appearances for me or Ming Tao.”
“Good.”
West closed his eyes and rested his head on Jin’s, but even with his beautiful, sweet prince in his arms, his mind kept replaying that horrible moment on the stage. The brief indecision that had held him frozen as he listened to his friends frantically trying to get to the assassin before it was too late. His brain replayed each millisecond of racing the short distance between them, grabbing Jin’s light form, holding him tight, and just waiting.
During his years as a sniper, he’d lost all belief in gods and higher powers. Life was mostly chance. Sometimes things happened, and there was nothing that could be done to stop it.
But as he held Jin in his arms, staring into those huge eyes, he’d prayed. He’d prayed to any and every god and ancestor that might have existed. He prayed to anything that would listen. Please spare Jin’s life.
Maybe something listened.
Maybe luck was on his side this time.
He didn’t know, and it didn’t matter.
He was going to keep Jin safe.
18
JIN LONG WEI
“Dianxia, I think we need to be very careful about even considering this proposal. Allowing foreign investors to gain a foothold within our country could spell disaster for our people.” Deng Rong was practically hissing in his ear as they walked toward his office.
Jin fought the urge to rub his forehead and temple against the headache that was forming. He’d already spent the morning in meetings with both the head of the palace security team and the minister of defense as the president of China renewed his saber-rattling. It was going to be a long day, made even longer because Qin had secreted West off somewhere for more etiquette lessons and another round of clothes fittings. The trade-off was that he’d gained two palace guards haunting his steps rather than his sexy boyfriend.
“You’re being ridiculous! Not only have you allowed the kingdom to fall into a financial crisis, but now you’re fighting efforts to pull us out of this mess,” Agricultural Minister Gong Hou argued on Jin’s other side. “Do you not even care about the future of Gaoxing?”
“I care about not selling off the kingdom to outside investors who are going to plunder our land’s resources and riches while leaving our people without hope for a brighter future!” Deng Rong shouted.
Could he put them both into time-out?
Make them stand in the corner?
Or maybe just send them outside to fight it out?
He was feeling like the exhausted parent stuck between two squabbling children rather than the crown prince. Why did he have to be the adult all the time?
That’s right. Because he was born to be the adult.
Whatever. It was his duty and honor to make decisions for the good of all his people, even if it meant dealing with cabinet ministers who were acting like grade school children just a single step away from name-calling.
“Gaoxing has old, well-established laws about which parcels of land foreign investors can and cannot purchase,” Jin said. “Is this investor requesting Gaoxing to make exceptions for this new farm development?”
“No, Dianxia,” Gong Hou replied, his tone returning to more respectful levels. “In fact, the region he’s interested in is quite rocky and on a steep slope. It’s going to require a significant infusion of cash and the work of an estimated fifty Gaoxing employees to get it into usable shape.”