Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 117176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
My mouth went dry when he came to stand in front of me, towering over my much smaller figure. A commanding presence, with the perfect combination of eloquence and power. It was just the way he always had been – easily dominating me with a single dark gaze.
“Dance with me,” Killian said softly, to my surprise. My eyes darted to his out-stretched palm, waiting.
What a perfect façade.
A fake, happy marriage.
A handsome, loving husband asking his beloved wife for a dance.
Our first dance.
There was nothing sweet or romantic with the way he asked for the dance. It was only an obligation, I knew that.
My gaze found Killian’s father and he nodded, approvingly. The rest of the guests were waiting, with bated breath.
The tension around the ballroom made it almost impossible for me to breathe. I could taste the heavy silence on my tongue, bitter and cold, as everyone waited for my response. The red gown suddenly felt too tight, encasing me within its hold and trapping me without any escape.
The bodice pinched me, making the pressure on my chest feel heavier. I can’t breathe…
My eye twitched under my laced and feathered masquerade mask.
“Julianna,” he said, the tone of his voice dangerous. “Give me your hand.”
My face itched as I placed my palm in his waiting one.
Killian clasped my hand and gave me a hard tug. I gasped and skidded over the shiny floors, my heels catching the hem of my gown as I fell into his chest.
My breath stuttered.
He hissed, as if my touch burned him.
“Julianna,” Killian breathed in my ear. There was a warning in the way he said my name.
“Killian.” My voice wavered before I snapped my jaw close.
“May this be our first… and last dance, wife.”
My heart pounded in my ears, my body growing cold – but I smiled and nodded. “Shall we?” I whispered.
Killian guided us to the center of the ballroom. He tugged me closer, our chests almost touching. I could feel the guests’ eyes on us, watching us carefully. Killian’s arm curled around my waist, his palm pressing into my lower back – his fingers brushing over the curve of my ass. I brought my hand to his shoulder, feeling the muscle tense under my fingertips.
“I assume you know how to waltz, wife.”
“I do,” I breathed. “A bit.”
“I won’t let you fall,” Killian whispered as the orchestra started to play.
We began to waltz, our feet moving to the slow, rhythmic music. Killian guided me, holding my hand firmly in his. We glided over the floor, spinning around the ballroom. I barely noticed the other couples joining us. When the music changed and our paces quickened, I let out a barely audible gasp, my feet now unsteady underneath me.
My dress got in the way and I grew clumsier in my heels, slightly stumbling into Killian. His eyes narrowed on me when he noticed my discomfort. The palm resting against my lower back pulled me closer and I released a shuddering breath the moment our chests touched.
My nipples puckered and I released an involuntary shudder when his warmth surrounded me, his spicy scent filling my nose – so wickedly intoxicating.
“Lean into me,” Killian rasped in my ear. “I have you.”
He changed his stance and his pace slowed down, making it easier for me to match his rhythm. Killian spun me around once, before tugging me back into his body. We flowed into the dance; our bodies locked together in what would seem like something intimate to an outsider.
“Have you found a suspect yet?” I asked.
To take my mind off this – how wonderful Killian felt against my body, how warm he was, how good he smelled or how much I wanted this moment to be real and not a ruse.
Killian Spencer was addictive and I was a willing victim.
His hatred for me, his unadulterated rage – I welcomed everything with open arms while I silently begged for more – his adoration and his devotion.
But I had long accepted my defeat.
Killian shook his head, bringing me out of my dreadful thoughts. “No. Our investigations have led to more dead ends. Samuel says it’s possible the maid acted alone. We have no other evidence.”
“A deranged maid? That’s what we are labeling this attack?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t sound very convinced,” I muttered, watching the way his brow furrowed thoughtfully.
Killian’s jaw tightened. “I’ve doubled the security and they are all vigilant. You’ll be safe here on the island; I’ve made sure of it.”
Maybe I was truly foolish for believing him, but I trusted Killian. After all, he needed me alive to fulfill my end of the contract.
“Does your father know?”
His hand squeezed mine. “No. Yours?”
“No. It’s better this way.”
“I agree.”
My lips twitched with a smile. “We finally agree on something.”
Killian didn’t respond. Not that I expected him to. True, since the day in my bedroom, Killian had been civil with me. There were times when I had expected him to snap, but with his father’s shadow following us, keeping a careful eye on us – we had no choice but to act like the perfect married couple.