Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
I’m a student.
I’m a student at…
I’m a student at USC.
Relief floods through me at remembering. My brain is short-circuiting, and I don’t know why. Perhaps I’m in shock and am having trouble making any of this make sense in my head.
The beautiful home is partially on stilts and the other part of it appears to be built into the mountain. Beneath the home between the stilts is a charcoal-colored Range Rover. Caius pulls the Mercedes into the area next to the other vehicle and shuts it off.
He opens his car door and an icy wind blows inside, making me squeal. After he shuts it, he takes off toward a door that must lead inside the house.
I can’t believe he left me here.
Alone.
Grabbing hold of the door handle, I peer through the window, my nose touching the chilled glass. I won’t get far with no shoes. Filled with frustration, I fling open the door and squeal again. There’s no snow in this car alcove, aside from what’s come off the strange wheels, but the concrete is still ice-cold. I run full speed after Caius.
Once I’m inside the home, I close the door behind me, eager to get out of the ridiculously cold air.
The room I’m in is a mudroom, with a few coats hung up on hooks. Several different types of boots and shoes are tucked away in little cubbyholes under the bench. As much as I’m tempted to grab a coat and boots to make an escape, I know it’ll be pointless. Running from wherever we are isn’t on the table. I’ll die within an hour.
I step out of the mudroom into another room that’s much warmer, to my delight. It appears to be a giant, but somehow still cozy, living room, complete with a fireplace that’s crackling with a lit fire.
Quickly, I rush over to it, eager to warm my hands and feet. Caius has already disappeared. I’m not exactly sad about it either. Once warmth has found my digits, I take in the grand space. It’s big enough to hold a sectional sofa and an enormous chaise lounge. A low, wide, rectangular coffee table sits in front of the sectional. The only decoration on the table is a silver tray with matching wine goblets and a carafe. I’m tempted to sit down on the chaise and curl up under the soft, black furry blanket there.
Don’t get too comfortable.
This is all a game.
When I turn back toward the fire, I notice the mounted head on the wall. Is that a…gazelle? I let out a huff of disgust.
“Some things never change,” Caius says from behind me. “You hated it the first time you saw it. I suppose with your memory loss, you still found a way to hate it.”
I shudder at his nearness. He’s changed out of his dress clothes and now dons dark athletic pants and a gray long-sleeved shirt that fits his muscular physique nicely. A stirring of heat tickles my core and I ignore it.
I’m not attracted to him.
This isn’t real.
“What now?” I demand, crossing my arms over my chest. “What other lies do you plan on spoon-feeding me?”
He cocks his head to the side and narrows his eyes, watching me as though I’m truly a mystery. Because I am a mystery. They freaking kidnapped me. I think.
They did.
“I need something to wear,” I say hotly.
His nostrils flare. “So go find something to wear. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m your boyfriend, not your assistant.”
With those words, he turns on his heel and starts out of the room.
“Wait,” I blurt out, suddenly panicked. “Where are you going? You’re just going to allow me to walk around freely?”
He stops and drops his head. The muscles in his shoulders and back are plain as day as the material stretches over them, revealing each curve and hard line.
“This is your home.”
Liar.
“Why now, then?” I ask, stepping closer to him. “Why keep me in the horror hotel for God only knows how long?”
He chuffs. “I’m wondering that myself.”
I wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t.
“I don’t understand any of this,” I mutter under my breath. “It’s not real.”
Caius turns around, eyebrows furled together. “Everything about this—us—is real. You’re mine.”
His?
I curl my lip up in disgust. “I’m not—”
“Save it, little girl,” he practically spits out. “I have work to do. Get dressed. Find food. Nap. I don’t care. This is your house too. Maybe you’ll finally remember.”
No boyfriend calls his woman little girl.
This time when he storms off, I don’t stop him. I listen for his footsteps as they fade away down a hallway and then the sound of a door closing. As soon as I know he’s gone, I begin my search for a bedroom where I might find some clothes.
I pass a couple of immaculate, seemingly untouched guest rooms, the closed door to what must be his office, a powder room, and then come to an enormous bedroom with a whole wall of floor-to-ceiling windows that give a stunning view of the mountains.