Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 90006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
A muscle ticks in his jaw, but then he nods. “Reckon that could be a good thing.”
I sigh and respond to him before I can school my mouth and think about what I say. “I suppose if the reason was for protection, I’d agree with you. However, it isn’t that at all, but because he thinks so little of who we are.”
Maybe I said too much.
Mac frowns. “In that case, I take back what I’ve said.”
I can’t help but smile at that. There’s something endearing about it, though I can’t quite understand what or how.
“Do you feel that way?” I ask, in a way a child may fish for a compliment. Already knowing the answer but needing the assurance of hearing him say it.
“What way?”
“That women should be kept ignorant of such things.”
He scowls at the road, and my heart does a little flip.
How can a scowl, that slightest downturn of the lips, affect me so?
“Absolutely not. My sisters and mother are the backbone of our entire family. My brother is the one in charge, though, because he's the clan captain. So he does call the shots. That said, he seeks their counsel, and every decision made is for the good of our entire family, not just the men.” He snorts. “Jesus.”
“Well, then, glad we’re in agreement. Your taste in music might be crap, and you eat meat as if you’re a ravenous dinosaur in danger of extinction, but it’s nice to know we have something we can agree on.”
“Watch it, woman,” he says in a low, warning growl. He puts a hand on my knee and gives me a little squeeze.
“What?” I ask innocently, as my pulse races even faster. He noted how I like a little excitement. I wonder if he knows how badly I crave to be dominated. I give him a sidelong glance, noting his strong, muscled body. If ever there was a man that could dominate me.…
His lips twitch. “Behave yourself.”
He takes a turn down a moonlit road, and I wonder briefly if my bodyguard’s still looking for me. I hope he is, the arsehole.
“It’s gorgeous out here tonight,” I say breathlessly. And God. It is.
The trees are aglow with the light of the full moon, and moonlight glints along a white rock pathway that leads to a small row of houses on a hill.
“Is that your flat up there?” I ask, cocking my head to the side as he pulls into a driveway. This is no small place, but large and airy, one of the most high-end places one could rent.
“Aye,” he says. “I’ve got business in town and sometimes like to have some privacy as well.”
“So do you live with your parents?” My father doesn’t allow anyone to leave his house unless they’re married.
“I don’t exactly, no,” he says, but he doesn’t offer any more details. “Here we are.”
He shuts the ignition off, when my phone buzzes again.
“I’m sorry,” I say, shaking my head when I pick up my mobile. “I really am.”
“Go on,” he says, gesturing to my bag.
I pull it out, noting a text from a number I’m unfamiliar with.
Unknown: Where the hell are you? You’ll pay for doing this.
My pulse spikes. Who the hell is this?
Bryn: Who is this?
Unknown: It’s your fucking bodyguard, Michail. Don’t even know who the fuck I am?
Well that definitely spikes my temper.
Bryn: I don’t think you quite got the memo, Michail, but you’re not allowed to talk to me that way.
Unknown: Let’s talk about what we are and are not allowed to do.
“Bryn, what the hell? Everything okay?”
I blow out a breath and show him my phone. “Look at what this arsehole’s saying to me.”
Mac reads the messages, then scowls, glaring at the screen.
“Who the fuck does he think he is? We’ve got bodyguards working for us, too, and they’re not allowed to talk to any of us this way. He works for you, not the other way around.”
“Exactly.”
“Let me reply,” he says, still scowling.
I nod.
Bryn: Hey. This is her date. She’s safe, and if you threaten her like that again, Aitkens will hear about it.
“That should shut him up,” he growls, handing me my phone back. “Put that away, now.”
I should feel odd about him telling me what to do, but for a reason I can’t quite fathom, I don’t. I grew up repressed and belittled, never having a say in anything I did or where I went. And I hated it, every minute of it.
Why does it feel so different with Mac?
I want to egg him on a little, tease the dominant out in him, like there’s a little red devil on my shoulder, whispering in my ear.
Poke, poke, poke.
I still remember what he said earlier.
If you ever wear something like that to buy groceries again, I’ll take you across my knee to teach you better.