Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
I was stronger than she ever gave me credit for. “I can do that.”
“Listen,” he shuffled closer, “You’re not alone. I’m here, right beside you. The second I feel the situation getting out of control, I will step in and take the heat. Nothing is going to touch you. Not while I’m here. Do you understand?” I wanted to say yes, but I had been let down by the people closest to me and my hesitation showed. “Do you hear me?” He took my face between his hands and forced me to look at him. His eyes blazed as he gave me a light shake for emphasis. “Nothing.”
And that reluctance?
It fell away.
Of course, I believed him. It was impossible not to when he spoke with such conviction.
I nodded and swallowed hard. My husband watched me closely for a long moment and then he lifted a knuckle and knocked on the limo window. The door opened and I unconsciously took the hand offered to me. It guided me out and when I lifted my head to see his surly face peering down at me, my light gasp was barely heard and I acted on instinct.
Marco grunted when my body collided with his. I wrapped my arms around his middle and his light chuckle sounded in my ear as he awkwardly patted me with one arm, keeping the other by his side. “Don’t tell me you’re actually happy to see me?”
When Tor lightly touched my back, I released Marco and backed into my husband’s tall frame, smiling at the curt brute. Tor’s arm slipped around my waist and his thumb lightly stroked my hip. “Well, I don’t know. You’re not going to chase me out of the crawl space again, are you?”
“Not today,” he said evenly, but his eyes were filled with mirth.
“Then, sure.”
And the asshole put both his hands to his chest, made a show of fluttering his lashes.
But as we both chuckled through our reunion, Tor wasn’t feeling much like laughing. “Focus.” The pressure was getting to him. He’d been crabby all morning. Marco, spotting the strain, instantly sobered when Tor asked, “Who’s in there?”
“Arthur, Cat and Anoushka. Striker’s ride just pulled in.” Marco checked his watch. “Roam and his boys will be here in a few and Vincenza often likes to make of a show of running late.”
I sighed lightly. Of course, she did.
Sometimes I wondered whether we were truly cut from the same cloth. Our appearance said we were, but our personalities were so different that we may as well have been from Venus and Mars.
“Better to get in before he arrives.” Tor squeezed my hip and when he began to walk, he took me with him. Marco stayed behind, waiting by the limo.
The second we breached the entrance, I heard a man speak in a British accent, “Noush, if your foot touches mine again, I won’t even bother with a tool. I’ll chew the fucking thing off.” He then growled, “Keep away from me.”
When my gaze landed on the man, I blinked because of all the people I thought I would see sitting behind the chairs of the high table, it wasn’t that of a tall, lithe silver fox with freshly trimmed hair and a neatly manicured beard. He looked dapper in a bespoke suit with a chain running from the center button of his navy vest to the inside of one pocket.
And, holy shit, he was gorgeous.
I guessed the young woman he was speaking to – Noush, he called her – was the one who responded. I tried to hide the way my brows rose when I looked at her because she didn’t look like a mob boss. She looked like the type of woman to start shit with you for looking at her boyfriend.
Her long, bleached-fried blonde hair bordered on yellow with dark roots peeking through her regrowth. Noush sat at the table with her feet resting up on the edge of it. She wore foundation a shade too light for her olive complexion, her eyes were lined heavily with kohl and her lashes were clumped with mascara. Her too-long neon orange acrylic nails tapped on the table top. On top of that, she looked to be wearing uber-casual sportswear and an attitude that said she didn’t give a fuck. All while sucking on a lollipop.
She pulled the stick out of her mouth long enough to turn to the man beside her and say, “I’d give anything for you to chew on me, daddy.” She stood fast and lowered one hand over her crotch and gave it a slow stroke. “Here. Let me show you where you can start.”
The other woman in the room, however, was the very picture of elegance. Well-dressed, she looked to be in her sixties, with dark hair pulled back into a slick chignon. She wore pressed silk and sat tall, cringing at the words of the younger woman and when she spoke, I heard the slightest Hispanic accent hiding in her voice. “Anoushka, you are the vilest sort of trash and I loathe that you and I are forced to share this space four times year.”