Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Instead, I’m eating the softest buttery biscuit I’ve ever had right from his hand. I don’t know where he found Southern-style biscuits in New Rome, but I could kiss him for it.
Again. But he’d get the wrong idea.
Again.
“What if Mr. Wilson talks—”
“He won’t talk. He won’t do anything. Neither will anyone else.” He wipes crumbs away from my face with a napkin and leans in to kiss the side of my mouth. His lips taste sweet, so I must have had some strawberry jam clinging to mine. The kiss quickly deepens, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, and I’m lost in the waves, going under—
I plant my hands on his bare chest and push. I can’t budge him, but it gets his attention.
“This is supposed to be over. I fulfilled the contract.” I wave at my chest, which is bare because the blankets have slipped. “You got yours, so—”
He cups the back of my neck. “I want to take care of you.”
That shuts me up. I let him go back to kissing me because I can’t breathe. I’ve never had anyone say that to me. He sounds determined.
Just when I think he’s going to push the blankets aside and fuck me again, he leans back and leaves the bed to clear the breakfast tray.
“I’m not in the market for a boyfriend,” I tell him warily when he returns.
“Good. I’m not a boy.” He gives me a dangerous smile. A thrill runs through my body because my pussy is stupid when it comes to him.
I sigh. “Then when do I get my money?” If Jaeger insists I stay with him, I will until my ankle’s a bit more healed. Then, I can use the money I earned to escape.
“Today.” He pulls out his phone and starts texting. “I’ll make the arrangements. St. James should be back in the city by now.”
I stiffen because St. James is the scariest guy I’ve ever met. The fact that he wears expensive suits only makes him more intimidating. I’ve survived working at a business run by Fraternitas by keeping my head down. St. James is my boss’s boss’s boss, and I knew instinctively that I shouldn’t attract his attention.
But now I’ve attracted Jaeger’s, for better or worse. And while my ankle heals, I’m stuck with him. I might as well go with it and use this time to plan my escape.
“He says the money’s ready for you at Inferno. We can go together to pick it up.”
“What?” I was told the money would be deposited into my account. I’m not going to push back against a man like St. James, but I blanch at the thought of returning to my place of work with a hurt ankle and Jaeger at my side. “What am I going to wear?”
And that’s how I find myself getting carried into a high end fashion shop, the sort Margot’s model friends would work at while they tried to make it big.
“You need to stop doing this,” I complain, even as I wind an arm around his neck to steady myself in his arms. Shoppers turn and stare at us.
“You can’t walk.” He doesn’t seem to mind my grousing. He just looks amused. “And you said you needed clothes.”
I’m wearing the joggers I wore yesterday and one of Jaeger’s shirts. It’s huge on me, so I knotted it in the back. “I thought that was your plan. Keep me naked,” I mutter.
“That’s still my plan. I figured you would prefer this.”
I shut up because of all the options, this is the best one. It’s not a great idea to return to my apartment, and I didn’t take any of my stuff. Not that I have anything worth taking. Everything I own could fit into a suitcase, and I’d be fine if I had to leave it all behind.
I didn’t expect Jaeger to head straight to an exclusive shop on 5th Avenue. With his tattooed sleeves, he’d attract attention even if he wasn’t carrying me bridal-style through the fancy store.
Over by a jewelry display, three skeletally thin ladies turn and stare. One of the ladies has a tiny dog in her purse, and it starts barking as Jaeger passes. He turns his head and gives the dog a long, hard look until it cringes. The ladies gasp and scuttle away.
The salespeople freeze when Jaeger approaches. “She needs clothes,” he tells them. I wave hello and cross my arms over my chest.
The head salesperson glances down at Jaeger’s skull ring and flies into action. “Oh, uh, yes… yes, of course.”
In no time, I’m settled into a comfy armchair and given a glass of champagne. Jaeger takes point, standing beside me and ordering the staff around. Clothing piles up around me. I feel like Cinderella, but instead of a fairy godmother, I got a giant, scary godfather.