Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Her presence was at once invigorating and soothing. I felt … at peace here.
And in my gratitude, I was pushing her out of her comfort zone like the truly dastardly bastard I was.
“Sarah,” I murmured, my tone a little taunting, “you can tell me. I’m a vault. I trusted you with something I haven’t told anyone.” My brows drew together. Good God, that was true. I had told her something I hadn’t spoken about with anyone else. One would think I’d feel vulnerable, like several layers of skin had been scraped off, but … I didn’t.
Sarah turned to look at me. It was disconcerting how stunning her eyes were and how, even after living with her for a few weeks, they still stopped me in my thought process. “You haven’t told anyone else that story? Not even North?”
Amused, I smirked. “You imagine quite the bromance between me and North, don’t you?”
“You can be blasé all you want, but I know he’s your friend.”
It was true that I trusted North more than most. “He’s a good man.”
Sarah nodded. “I sensed that about him.”
“Do you sense things about people, then?” I teased.
She gave me a mock scowl, and I resisted the urge to trail my thumb over the little crease it made at the bridge of her delicate nose. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
Intrigued, I leaned in. “Oh, do tell. Who else have you sensed things about?”
“I knew Lucy Wainwright was a sociopathic bitch before anyone else did,” she admitted. Her tone turned regretful. “I was just too shy and cowardly to speak up.”
I frowned, knowing she was talking about the famous case of Hollywood actor Lucy Wainwright who, along with the estate mechanic, terrorized Ardnoch Castle and stalked Lachlan Adair. It happened a good few years ago now, before I was a member. Usually, I would bluntly say what I felt about a situation, but in this case, I was wary of hurting Sarah’s feelings in the same way other people had. “You … you weren’t cowardly, little mouse.”
She studied my face. “They wouldn’t have listened, anyway, would they?”
“They didn’t know who you really are, so perhaps not,” I agreed as she took the words right out of my mouth. “I would have listened.”
Shoving me playfully, she chuckled. “Aye, right.”
Smiling, I nudged her again. “Stop avoiding my original question.”
There was that blush again. She lowered her gaze, and this time I couldn’t help myself. I reached out and gently touched her chin, lifting it so she’d look at me. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.” I wanted her to, though. I wanted to know about her. And I wanted my trust reciprocated.
“I don’t know,” she answered, eyes wide, sadness gleaming in them.
Shock moved through me as something occurred to me. I released her, my eyes searching her face for the answer. “Are you … are you a virgin, Sarah?”
The woman flushed the color of strawberries, and I felt like a bit of a shit. “N-no,” she stuttered, pulling back from my touch.
I hooked my foot around her chair so she couldn’t escape entirely. Relieved she hadn’t gone thirty-one years of her life without enjoying sex, I pressed, “Then how do you not know what you like in bed?”
“Why are you so interested?” She huffed, pressing her palms to her hot cheeks as she gazed out the window.
Disappointment flooded me, but I didn’t want to upset her. “Shall we break for lunch? I was thinking grilled cheese, or do you want to venture out into the cold?”
Her head whipped back to me, lips parted, somewhat bewildered.
“Well?” I released my foot on her chair.
She studied me for a few long seconds. Then, “My first and last kiss was when I was twelve years old. It was my mum’s boyfriend’s son and he was seventeen.”
I stiffened. “I’m horrified by several things in that sentence. First and last?”
“It wasn’t a kiss I wanted,” she answered sadly.
My hands curled into fists as anger tightened my throat.
“His name was Harry. His dad wasn’t a good man either, and he’d learned how to treat girls from him. I remember his tongue felt like this slug that I couldn’t get out of my mouth.” She winced. “When I started to need to barricade my bedroom door at night and my mum wouldn’t listen when I told her I was afraid of him, I knew I had to be brave and put myself first. So I called Grandpa and told him what was happening.”
“I hope he ripped that little shit’s head off,” I whispered harshly. The thought of Sarah as a girl, cowering in her bedroom from a sexual predator living in her own home, enraged me beyond measure.
As if she sensed it, she settled a calming hand over mine. “I think Grandpa wanted to, but he is so—” She flinched, grief-stricken. “He was so smart. He called the police and social services instead. When they showed up, the police took me aside and questioned me. I told them what had been happening and when they relayed it to my mum, she flew at me and smacked me across the face in front of everyone. That was it. The police arrested her and social services took me from her right there and then.”