Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
“Yes. Yeah, I…shit.” I put a hand to his chest and push. He sits back on the mattress, giving me space while I wipe my cheeks dry. Only the dim light from the candles in the parlor light the room. Everything is shadows. “It was just a nightmare.”
He nods.
“I didn’t even think vampires had nightmares or dreams.”
“The mind is a complex thing, sweetie,” says Henry from the doorway. “Trauma can mess with you in all sorts of ways. But you’re safe here with us.”
“Or maybe you don’t feel as secure in this room on your own. That’s easily fixed.” Lucas lifts me and the blanket off the bed. The way he picks me up as if I weigh nothing and carries me around so carefully like I am precious. I kind of need it right now.
“You get that you’re a bully, right?” I ask as he carries me down the hallway back to his bedroom. “I mean, you’ve made peace with that aspect of your personality.”
“Oh, yes,” says Henry, tailing along behind us. “That’s old news. Did I ever tell you about the time in Natal when he—”
And that’s when Lucas kicks the bedroom door shut in his face.
“Harsh,” shouts Henry from out in the hallway.
Lucas sets me on the bed with one of his trademark frowns. He’s wearing a black tee, jeans, and boots. The modern look sure does suit him. Though, he’s so pretty he could pull off anything. I’m in another expensive sleep set made of linen. A flickering white pillar candle sits on the desk. He might have a point; I do like his room. The chunky, wooden four-poster bed and the scent of his cologne lingering in the air. The pictures and so on. How the décor offers hints of his existence through the ages.
“Do you want to tell me about your dream?” he asks.
“No.” I shake my head. “Better to just forget it. What time is it?”
“It’s almost sunset,” he says. “But you should try to go back to sleep. I’ll watch over you.”
“Keep me safe from the demons in my head?” I play with a loose thread on the blanket. And wind up accidentally tearing the thick, woolen material. Just when I thought I had my strength under control. The way that clumsiness remains my chosen undead aesthetic.
He just sits there staring at me all the while. There’s such intensity in his gaze. Like he can read me inside and out; all of my hopes and dreams open to him for perusal. No one has ever been this interested in me. I’m going to miss it when it goes. When his attention moves on to other topics.
“You shouldn’t look at me that way,” I say.
“How should I look at you?”
It’s a good question. One I can’t answer. Or maybe I don’t want to answer. I give my ponytail a nervous tug. “I was jealous about your ex.”
“I know.”
The ego on this guy. I shoot him a dirty look, which of course, achieves nothing. “The human whom I fed from…in my dream, I tore him apart to get at the blood.”
“It’s certainly one way to do it; though, there are less messier choices,” he says in his usual dry tone. “Ones less inclined toward waste.”
“You’re such an ass.”
The edge of his mouth rises in a smirk.
I square my shoulders and take a deep, unnecessary breath. Habits really do die hard. “I need to know if you’re going to be yet another one of those people who like the idea they have of me, but then when they get to know me, they’re disappointed.”
He narrows his gaze on me. Then he stands and walks over to the desk. Among the books and so on sits a blue silk case. This, along with a large white envelope, are what he returns with. He gives me the case first. “Open it, Skye.”
Inside are a pair of diamond drop earrings and a matching necklace with stars. The stones range in size from small to astonishing. It must be worth millions. I don’t know what to say.
“To replace the jewelry that was stolen from you,” he says. Then he gives me the envelope. “These are the documents Helena sent over. They detail your settlement from The Thorn Group.”
“You opened my mail?”
“That’s beside the point. Note the payout you’re receiving.”
I skim the document and wow. There are, indeed, a lot of zeros. “Wow.”
“I was born in a time when women were considered the property of men.”
“Some idiots still think that way today.”
He nods. “I won’t lie to you, it’s an attractive idea. I would like to own you. But you’re not the type to thrive in such a relationship. You would find it claustrophobic and limiting. Nor do I necessarily require such control.”
The way I hold in any and all sarcastic comments. I deserve an award. I am also dying to know where he’s heading with this.