Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
She inclines her head, her smile slipping just a little. “Well… thank you for making sure I’m safe. Despite being annoying, I do appreciate it.”
“You’re quite welcome,” I reply before retreating a few steps, intending to leave her in peace. Just as I start to turn away, a thought hits me. “What are you going to do once you reach your goals?”
Her attention had already gone to her computer, but she gives me her regard without hesitation. She shrugs, lips curling slightly in amusement. “Get a haircut, maybe.”
Fuck, I hope not. That messy bunch of blond locks is amazing just as it is.
“Or maybe take a vacation,” she murmurs, her eyes going slightly dreamy. “Can’t remember the last time I did that.”
It should be somewhere tropical. I bet she’d look fucking fantastic in a bikini.
Her eyes refocus, and I get a sheepish smile. “Probably just get another work goal. Some new area of research. A different mystery to solve.”
Yeah… from what little I know about Barrett, it’s obvious she needs that in her life. Vacations and haircuts aside, she genuinely loves what she does. Apparently, she’s damn good at her job if she has people wanting her intellect enough to kidnap her.
But my vow to her was real… no one will get her on my watch.
CHAPTER 5
Barrett
The minute I push my front door open while simultaneously throwing an arm over my shoulder in a wave to the two Jameson men who escorted me home from work, I’m met by Cruce.
A too-damn-attractive Cruce who’s wearing a tuxedo way too well. Eyes widening, I freeze, idly wondering how long I can stare before it becomes truly awkward.
He grins in amusement, taking my briefcase and purse from my clutches before pointing up the staircase. “Go get ready. Now.”
My shoulders hunch, my nose scrunches, and I can’t help the low whine. “Do I have to?”
“Yes, you have to,” he replies firmly.
After gripping my elbow, he deposits my stuff on the foyer table before marching me right up the stairs, not giving me time to lag. “We have to leave in twenty minutes. Whatever you have to do to make yourself presentable in that time frame, get it done.”
“Bossy,” I mutter as he gently but firmly propels me into my room. He winks as he steps backward, pulling the door shut.
Rolling my eyes, I scan my room, taking in the gown Cruce must have pulled from my closet. I have quite a few since I’ve attended numerous presidential functions and research fundraisers over the years. Even accepted scientific awards that required a fancy dress a time or two.
I have to admit the gown he chose is a favorite of mine. Fit at the torso, it’s a pale peach color with flowing layers of chiffon. Strapless with a deep cut at the top to reveal a hint of cleavage, it’s elegant while still having sex appeal. As I examine it, I’m a little ashamed that my inner girly girl wants to come out and play. Cruce had even laid out a pair of high-heeled strappy gold sandals to go with it.
“Fine,” I mutter. Heading to the master bath, I start stripping my clothes off as I go. “Let’s do this.”
I twist the shower handle to hot. While it heats, I critically assess the unfortunate mess of my hair. If I’m going to do justice to my makeup, I’m not going to have time to shampoo and style this catastrophe.
When I pull the bobby pin from the top, my long bangs flop over to the side with a weird crimp in the middle. I yank the ponytail holder out, the rest of my hair falling to hang lankly just above my shoulders.
“Just great,” I gripe to the mirror, eyeballing the can of dry shampoo that will be my best friend after my shower.
While I am not looking forward to this event and would much rather get some work done, I can’t imagine attending with Cruce will be all that bad. I mean, he’s certainly not hard on the eyes. Besides, since he moved into my house, I’ve realized I actually like talking to him.
Not that I have a lot of time to do so, but we’ve set up a pattern where conversation is a natural by-product. For example, after I finish my morning run—which he joins me on, of course, but talking while running is impossible—he makes breakfast while I shower. He then forces me to take ten minutes to sit and eat something nutritious like eggs or oatmeal and fruit.
During that time, we talk.
It’s the same at dinner, as he’s pretty much strong-armed me into coming home at a reasonable time. His logic is if I stay at work until ten or eleven PM like I normally do, I’m making it hard on the guys assigned to watch me during the day. His reasonable point I’ll get the same work done at the house makes too much sense to ignore.