Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Shock renders me mute at his words. The genteel cadence of his voice dropped to something rougher on the last: a gravelly declaration of ownership and a promise of retribution.
Dane tips his chin at my shirt. Ron’s knuckles have gone white against the soft black fabric.
“That doesn’t belong to you.”
For a moment, I think that he’ll insist on giving it back to me.
Instead, he plucks my shirt from Ron’s loosened grip and claims it for himself.
Ron’s jaw works. “Tough talk for a fancy man. I was just being neighborly and helping with her laundry.”
Dane’s eyes remain fixed on Ron like he’s a bug he’d like to grind under the heel of his designer shoe, but he addresses me.
“Do you want his help, Abigail?”
“No,” I manage to breathe.
With every passing second, the ice is melting from my bones, leaving me wrung out and shaky. Fear is giving way to shock at the unexpected events unfolding in the cramped space of the stifling laundry room. Dane radiates menace, and the fine hairs on the back of my neck prickle. But at the same time, relief rushes through me at his protective presence.
“You heard her,” Dane prompts darkly. “She doesn’t want you. Unless you have a good reason to be in here, I suggest you leave now.”
Ron throws up his hands and shakes his head, as though Dane is making a big deal out of nothing. “Fine, buddy. I have boxes to move.” He shoots a glower in my direction. “Ungrateful bitch.”
Dane moves lighting fast, and suddenly, his chest is almost pressed against Ron’s. His entire body swells with barely leashed aggression, but his face is completely devoid of emotion. The cold, clinically calculated way he’s studying Ron is more terrifying than his warning scowl.
“Use that language with her again, and you’ll end up with a broken jaw.”
Ron seems to finally understand the gravity of the danger he’s in, and he takes a hasty step away, edging toward the open door behind Dane.
“Fine,” he says again, but his voice wavers this time. “She’s your girl. I get it. Fucking psycho.” He mutters the last as he ducks out the door to evade my fierce protector.
Dane’s cold gaze glitters. He keeps his frigid focus fixed on Ron until the threat is gone. Ron’s quickly retreating footsteps slap against the concrete floor of the entry hall as he makes a swift exit onto the street.
“How did you know I was in here?” My lips feel oddly numb, but my voice barely wavers on the question.
The dangerous glimmer melts from Dane’s eyes when he turns his stunning gaze on me. “I was knocking on your front door when I heard your voice,” he explains. “You sounded scared.”
“Did I?” I’d thought I was speaking in a calm, disarming tone.
I guess I was even more shaken up than I realized. My body is still reeling from the spike of adrenaline, and my knees are strangely weak.
“I’m sorry.” I offer a reflexive apology, and embarrassment flushes my cheeks. “I should’ve been able to handle him myself.”
If I weren’t still jumpy from the masked man’s attack, I might’ve been capable of walking away from Ron on my own.
But I can’t explain myself to Dane. He can never know what happened to me, my shameful reaction to being violated.
My white knight is touching me again, his careful fingers making light contact with my wrist to test my pulse. It’s still racing from the burst of irrational fear.
“You shouldn’t have to handle him by yourself,” he rumbles, his jaw flexing with a shadow of his righteous anger. “I’ll take care of you, Abigail. He won’t bother you again.”
I try to shrug. “It wasn’t that serious. I would’ve been okay.”
A shadow deepens in his cheek as his jaw ticks more with more force. “I’m not asking,” he says firmly. “I want to keep you safe. Trust me.”
His long fingers close around mine before I can respond. “You’re shaking,” he remarks. “Let’s go somewhere quiet. You need to sit down and hydrate.”
I attempt a dismissive laugh to alleviate his concern. “I’m just being silly. It really was nothing.” I square my shoulders with considerable effort and summon up my sunny smile. “I thought we were going out on a date?”
He fixes me with a disapproving frown, and my chest hollows out.
“Come on,” he prompts, wrapping his strong arm around my shoulders. “Let’s go into your place.”
“You really don’t have to take care of me.” I try to protest as he steers me out of the laundry room. The humid summer air is oddly cold against my sweat-slicked skin after the heat of the running dryers. “I’m fine.”
“I know I don’t have to, but I’m going to,” he counters. “And don’t lie to me, Abigail. It’s okay to be disturbed by what happened in there. That bastard shouldn’t have cornered you. You were a woman alone in a small space with a much bigger man. You don’t have to be proud around me and conceal your emotions.” That shadow at his jaw flutters again. “Did he touch you?”