Series: Lee Savino
Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Why am I staring at this man’s lips? And why am I wondering what it would be like if he won the bid for me? But I do wonder. Of course, my engagement will be fake. Thom is just lending me out for my “gift.” This man wouldn’t be a real fiance. He wouldn’t expect any kind of marital rights.
But what if he did?
What if he tossed me over his shoulder, carried me out to the beach, and ravished me right here on the sand? I’d get away and run like I did the other night. He wouldn’t send my bodyguards after me; he’d chase me himself. And when he caught me…
Oh damn. I have definitely read far too many of the Viking, Regency, and Highlander romance novels Ellie got me hooked on.
I try to shake off the fizzy excitement that thought brings. I must be nuts if I’m fantasizing about how Thom’s plans to loan me out like a work slave to a fictitious fiance will play out for me. This isn’t a sexy Viking come to carry me off to a foreign land. He wants to buy me and use me like Thom uses me to increase his coffers.
I touch my heels to Starlight’s side and let her have her head, so she can get us away. As I ride, I sense his gaze on my straight back, and it takes everything I have not to look back.
Darius
I watch Paloma race her horse away from me like the hounds of hell are following. For a moment, our gaze connected, and I felt lightning sizzle between us. I almost shifted again.
My bear is apparently in love.
But a moment later, she was gone.
My blood pumps, and not just from my brisk swim. Seeing Paloma revs my heartbeat. Her lovely face, her rosebud pout. My dick is hard and ready, even while the rest of me is numb from the freezing water.
Her. Now, my bear says. He wants to go after her. Her horse was panicking at my strange bear shifter smell, and getting closer might mean the horse would spook and throw Paloma off. I want to get close to Paloma to get to know her when she’s relaxed and free of her guards, where she feels safe enough to tell me how she got the ugly bruises on her arms.
Last night, I spent interminable hours choking on cigar smoke and bland conversation with the rest of the guests. I learned Paloma was born to a couple who worked as traders in Thom’s firm. They died in a car crash when she was fourteen, and Thom became her guardian. She’s adopted, like me. But if there was ever any love between her and the man who calls himself her father, it’s gone now.
I tried to dig more, to figure out what mergers Thom might be planning, so I can learn more about the bidding I heard whispers about, but nobody said anything.
I didn’t get to poke around the way I wanted. Today, I’ll use my heightened sense of smell and hearing to do some sleuthing, starting with finding out more about the tragic and enigmatic beauty surrounded by bodyguards.
After dressing in my room, I stroll through the halls like I own the place. This is how rich people behave. They push and shoulder their way into whatever place they desire, with the sheer belief that they belong anywhere they choose to go. It’s like the animal world with a show of dominance, except you never know what they have for teeth and claws.
My nose tells me that Thom’s rooms are in the west wing. I head that way, poking my head into random rooms, trying door handles. I’m looking for an office.
A heavy door stymies my way to the west wing. It’s locked, and there’s a black keypad beside it. Thom has taken the precaution of extra security, which is a good sign I’m in the right place.
I open a window. I’m on the second story, and it only takes a moment to leap from one windowsill to a small balcony. An impossible feat for a human, but no problem for a werebear who spent his childhood climbing trees. No one’s on the grounds, but I duck down anyway, and use my sharp claws to carve into the glass. No alarms sound, and I can reach a hand through the hole to open the French door.
Just like that, I’m past security and in the wing that holds Thom’s private offices. If I’m lucky, I’ll uncover some secrets.
I slip out of the first room and head down the wide hall. I have to tread more carefully here. I catch the scent of guards–stale cigarettes and the faint smell of gunpowder–and a whiff of Thom’s cologne.
Ten doors down, I hit the jackpot. Someone murmurs behind the closed door, and they sound a lot like Thom.