Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
I can’t help a glance at Emily’s long legs. “To see Evangeline. Where is she?”
Marc looks around the kitchen. “I assumed she was in here. Ariel asked her for some water, but Sebastian brought it.” He leans close to me. “I’m a little worried about her.”
My heart jolts. “About Ariel?”
“No, she’s fine. I mean Evangeline. She doesn’t look good, man. She seemed awfully squeamish around the blood and all.”
He’s not wrong. Evangeline hasn’t looked good all day. She clearly thinks her life is in danger, so much so that she needs me here for a full two weeks. I glare over at Misty, who seems to actually be enjoying herself making whatever the hell it is she and Emily are making.
Marc heads toward his station. “Time to sauté the shrimp.”
I walk swiftly toward the stairway and head upstairs toward Evangeline’s suite, but then make a detour toward my own. I discard the apron, grab a clean T-shirt, and throw it over my head. I’m not Brett or Seb. It’s not my goal to have the women gawk at my bare chest.
For a second, I think of June—her fingers sliding over my pecs…and the kiss we shared. It was nice, and I enjoyed it.
But it wasn’t enough to get me out of this stormy mood. How the hell did I let Brett talk me into this? Hell, how have I let him talk me into anything when it turns out I don’t even know my best friend in the world?
When I reach Evangeline’s suite, I pound all my aggressions onto her door.
No response.
Of course there’s no response. Where the fuck is she? Isn’t she supposed to be running this thing? But I breathe in and try to calm my anger. If she’s truly frightened, truly thinks someone is going to kill her if…
Is she telling me the truth? I don’t know what’s at stake for her because she won’t elaborate. I only know it has something to do with Misty and her infatuation with me. For some reason, I have to stay here for two weeks and let Misty get to know me.
I pound again. “Evangeline! Open up!”
I’m being loud, I know, but the others are all in the kitchen working and not paying any attention to me. They probably can’t hear me from this far away. And if they can? I don’t give a flying fuck.
I continue pounding until the door finally opens and Evangeline stumbles forward, falling into my arms.
She’s light as a feather, and I lift her and walk into her room and get her situated on the couch.
“What’s going on?” I ask, tempering my anger. She looks terrible, and she’s obviously frightened. She doesn’t need me yelling at her no matter how pissed off I am.
She swallows, her gaze focused on her hands clasped in her lap. “The blood.”
“From Ariel’s cut?”
She nods. “I get squeamish. But I’m fine. I was just about ready to return to the kitchen.”
“That’s crap,” I say. “No one gets that freaked out by blood. You fell into me when you opened the door. You’re not in any condition to return to the kitchen, or even to work at all today.” I look around Evangeline’s lavish suite. “This is nuts. We need a medic or nurse on staff. Too many things could go wrong. Like yesterday.”
The mention of Rachel gets my thoughts going everywhere all at once. Where is she? Is she okay? When the hell will Brett return with news?
Evangeline waves a hand at me, finally looking up to meet my gaze. “I thought I had all of that covered when I chose a doctor as one of the girls. I mean, how many things could go wrong?”
“Evangeline, we offered you carte blanche. You could have the entire Harvard Medical School faculty here.”
“But Ginger—”
“Ginger’s a dermatologist. Did you think we were going to have an acne outbreak or something? And besides that, she’s no longer here, and it wouldn’t have been fair to expect a participant in this event to work.”
“Fine.” Evangeline’s tone is defeated. “I’ll take care of it. I’ll get someone over here from the mainland tonight. I’ll call the ferry.”
“Fuck the ferry. Have a trained medic or nurse here by nightfall. Get them helicoptered in. Have you forgotten that money is no object? Besides, this is a safety issue. A liability issue.”
“The women all signed—”
“Fuck what they signed!” I shuffle my fingers through my hair. So much for keeping my temper at bay. “You think a damned piece of paper is going to stop them from suing us? Raking us through the coals? Getting our names and faces splashed across every gossip rag in the free world?”
She nods slowly. “You’re right. I should have been more prepared.”
“That’s an understatement. Get someone out here by nightfall. I don’t care what it costs.”