Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
“I mow lawns,” he stutters. “Trim hedges. Wash windows–”
Wash windows? Something inside me snaps as I picture him up on a ladder, pretending to wash Belle’s glass, staring at her inside as she undresses. And I just lunge forward and snatch him by his collar, forcing the chair onto its back two legs.
“You been stalking her, Barry?” I snarl, gnashing my teeth as my heartbeat leaps through the roof. “Following Belle? Watching her?”
“No!” he protests. “I’m not a stalker!”
“Bullshit! Don’t lie to me!” My blood is lava, coursing through my veins as I glare down at this predator. “I know you didn’t call in that threat, Barry. You don’t have the brains for something like that. So tell me why you’re lying!”
“I just wanted to be cool with the guys!” he cries out, desperation streaking across his face. He gasps a breath, and I set the chair down, loosening my grip on him. “I heard about the threat, and all the guys were talking about it. S-so I thought I’d just take credit, ya know? It made everybody laugh!”
My guys sigh, and I take a step back, the tension slowly sliding from my body. I glance back over my shoulder to make sure Belle is okay. She looks a bit shaken up, and I rage at myself. She never should have been involved in any of this. I should have left her with someone else while I questioned Barry, but that wouldn’t be possible. That would mean she would be away from me. And I can’t allow that ever again.
Don’t worry, angel. I’ll make things all better.
“Confirm his story with the grounds workers,” I tell my men. “This isn’t our guy. Wedding’s still off. Let Fitch know.”
I stomp across the room, swelling with warmth as I grab Belle’s delicate little hand and pull her from the room, down the hall, and into the back room of the prep-kitchen. On the way, we pass Fitch’s room, which I know will become their room once the wedding finally takes place. I may have bought myself some more time with my angel, but how much? How long can I really put things off before Fitch insists they wed anyway?
“I’m so sorry, Belle,” I whisper as I close the door behind us. “Don’t be afraid. I never should have put you in the same room with that weirdo.”
She looks up at me, doe-eyed and innocent, trying to appear less frightened than she is. And I curse myself. I caused all of this, and yet still she trusts me. Looks to me for protection and guidance. She believes in me, when really I’m the one who’s violently obsessed with her.
“So you don’t think he was…stalking me?” Belle asks.
What a question to be asking me.
I shake my head, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“No, angel. He was just a weird guy looking for attention. If anyone was stalking you, I would know. Trust me.”
Trust me?
Jesus, who even am I now? What have I become?
I’m working her. Making her trust me more and more, when I’m the last man in the world she should be anywhere near. I’ll ruin her, like I want to ruin her virgin cunt with my engorged cock, growing quickly beneath my jeans.
She wanted me to take her when we were back at the hotel. She’d let her walls down for me, all because of a situation I put her in. The situation I fabricated. And in less than a day, I’ve completely abandoned my professional responsibilities of maintaining distance from the girl I’ve been hired to protect. And on top of that, I’ve been stalking her for weeks.
I should tell her everything. She deserves to know.
But she must know by now what I truly am. Or at least have some suspicions.
Then again, she asked me to teach her more. Show her what Fitch would want from her once they were married. If she mistrusted me, she wouldn’t have done that. Either she’s totally oblivious, or she’s playing right into my game. And I don’t think she’s oblivious. I think Belle is looking for a way out of her marriage, and I think she knows she’s found it in me.
She’s twisting absentmindedly, shifting from one foot to the other, a movement which accentuates the round curves of her hips. Every motion whips a harsh craving into my mind, causing my eyes to narrow as I stare and run my tongue across my front teeth, eager to taste her again. For a brief moment, I wonder what we’re even doing here right now. Why should I stay and keep trying to find ways to postpone the wedding? Why not just take her now and vanish? My life means nothing if I don’t have her with me, to wake by her side every morning. I’m sure she understands that. And if she doesn’t, she will.