Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 122550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
Not his problem? What the hell was this? What was she talking about?
Her arm went across her body, and she grabbed the elbow of her other arm. It was a move that displayed her nervousness.
Or maybe it showed how uncomfortable she was . . . with him.
Fuck.
What was going on?
“Jilly, talk to me,” he urged quietly. Reaching out, he touched her chin, but she flinched back.
Fuck. Fuck.
Sure, she’d flinched a few times around him, but he thought she’d been getting more used to him touching her.
“Uh, sorry. You surprised me.” She raised her head, but her eyes went over his shoulder rather than meeting his gaze. “I, um, I talked to my mom. She told me she called and asked you to check up on me. I’m really sorry. She shouldn’t have done that.”
Shit. Why had Anne told her? She was the one who’d wanted him to keep her call quiet.
Worry filled him. For some reason, he was concerned that Jilly was upset with him.
In the beginning he hadn’t cared about what she might think of him. She’d been a chore he’d had to tick off on an extensive to-do list.
Now the idea of her shutting him out worried him.
This wasn’t good.
He didn’t need to find her cute. To think about her all the time. Worry over her.
“I didn’t think she would mention that,” he said cautiously.
“Mama can be a bit of a motor-mouth,” she said. Then she grimaced. “Not that she’d say anything about your family or this house. She’d never do that.”
Fuck. She had just stepped back again. Away from him.
As though she was scared.
“I wasn’t worried that she would. Jilly—”
“Thanks for checking up on me. I’m sorry that Mama rang you like that. But I’m a grown woman and I don’t need her to interfere in my life. I’ll get better at answering her calls and returning them. I just get distracted.”
“Um, I hadn’t noticed.”
There was no sassy grin. No retort. Instead, she just nodded. “And while it’s really kind of you to update so much stuff around the house, it’s not necessary. Things are fine here just as they are. I think it might be best if you canceled the plumber and builder. Have a nice night.”
The door shut in his face.
She’d shut the door in his face . . .
What. The. Fuck.
Regent raised his fist, ready to pound on the door and tell her exactly what he thought of that behavior . . . but what would that get him?
Wasn’t this for the best? To step back? Get some perspective?
So he forced himself to turn away and headed to the car.
“Where to, boss?” Jose asked, not mentioning anything about the fact that he hadn’t taken long.
“Home.”
Was it home anymore, though? Victor and Gracen were moving out this weekend. Soon, it would be just him and Gerald.
In that massive house.
All alone.
What would it be like to fill that house with laughter again?
An image of Jilly running down the stairs, while he ran after her, scolding her, filled his head.
Children racing along the hallways, yelling and laughing.
Children? Could he really be thinking about having kids? With Jilly?
Yes, stepping away was necessary before he grew anymore attached.
19
Jilly was so tired.
Bone-deep tired. She’d barely managed to get through her last set. As she walked off the stage, she tripped and would have fallen if Keegan hadn’t caught her.
“Whoa, darlin’, you all right?” Keegan had a thick Irish accent. It was hot as heck.
“Yes. Sorry, I’m just tired.”
“You sure that’s all it is?”
She nodded, feeling like her head was going to slide right off her neck. Urgh.
“You don’t look all right to me, darlin’. You finished for the night?”
“No, I’ve got one more set.”
“Nope. You’re finished for the night,” he said firmly as he took hold of her arm and led her down to the dressing room.
She was cold despite the fact that she’d been dancing for the last twenty minutes, and her wig was itching.
“Get changed, darlin’. I’ll arrange it so I can take you home.”
“What? No, I can’t go home.”
“Nyx,” a deep voice called.
She glanced over and she saw Santé striding toward her. As far as bosses went, Santé was pretty decent. Although she guessed anyone would seem good next to Margaret. The old bat.
“Yes?” she asked, her voice cracking.
Wow. Why did it feel like the room was spinning?
“I got a request for a private dance. Four times what we normally ask for the other girls.”
“Santé, you know Nyx doesn’t do private dances,” Keegan said in a deep voice.
“Four times,” Santé repeated.
Okay, so he was a better boss than Margaret, but he wasn’t perfect. Santé was all about making money. He treated the girls decently. But she knew he’d push to get the most out of them.
“I don’t do private dances,” she said firmly.
“Look, Nyx. You have to work with me here. I could easily replace you with a girl eager to give lap dances.”