Total pages in book: 190
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
“I hope you’re not going to insist on heading into work,” said Dax, his voice thick.
“Not today,” I rasped, the words barely audible.
He let out a gratified grunt. “I can’t take the day off, but I’ll come check on you between meetings.”
Aw, that hit me in the feels. “You don’t have to do that, I’ll be fine.” But considering my voice was a pitiful croak and I had to look like a bag of shit, I wasn’t surprised that he raised a dubious brow my way. “Fingers crossed you don’t catch it.”
“I won’t catch it,” he said with total conviction, like no germ would dare try to infect him.
I rubbed at my throat. “Well, I hope you’re right.”
“I’m right.” Again, such conviction.
I merely shrugged. “If you say so.”
Before leaving for work, he set me up in bed with everything I needed—drinks, pills, tissues, healthy snacks, menthol lozenges, and even a soothing throat spray. He went about it in a very methodical and businesslike way as opposed to acting in any way nurturing, but my chest went warm all the same.
Throughout the day, wanting to get at least some work done, I handled emails while watching movies and documentaries on the TV mounted on the wall opposite me. For obvious reasons, taking and making calls was a no-no.
True to his word, Dax popped home here and there. Each time, I assured him that it wasn’t necessary. But he totally ignored me and did as he pleased.
What’s new there?
I wasn’t annoyed, though. I found it sweet. Touching. Especially when it was clearly so out of character for him.
Later on, when I went to his office in search of him, I saw that the room was empty. Noticing that the balcony doors were open, I made my way toward them … which was right when I picked up an unfamiliar muted voice.
Stepping onto the balcony, I found no Dax. I realized then that the person speaking was actually outside the villa. As the balcony was positioned on the side of the building, I could see only a portion of the driveaway from this angle. Right then, what I saw was Dax standing near his car with his back to me, facing a short, dorky-looking dude who appeared to be somewhere in his twenties. A dude who was wearing a sly grin.
“I personally would have married the sister,” he told Dax. “Alicia’s her name, isn’t it? Yeah, pretty sure that’s it.” He hummed. “Damn, she’s got great skin. And those fucking legs go on forever. Am I right, or am I right?”
I gaped, honestly unsure what bothered me more: the sleazy way this prick spoke of my sister, or that Dax didn’t say a single word.
“Come on, you can’t tell me you haven’t had a few fantasies about that girl,” Sleazeball went on, still smirking.
Apparently, Dax indeed couldn’t tell him that. Because he didn’t.
“Seriously, why didn’t you put your ring on that one’s finger? I’m not saying the eldest isn’t hot. She’s a babe for sure.” The stranger’s nose wrinkled. “Just a little too curvy for my tastes. And she always struck me as a bit vain and uppity.”
I gritted my teeth, anger flaring in my belly. Not merely at the crap he was spouting, but at how Dax remained completely silent. Thanks, hubby.
“She has a great rack, though,” Sleazeball seemed to hesitantly grant. “And we all love a great rack, don’t we?”
Seriously, who was this motherfucker?
His smirk went up several notches. “The youngest one’s a beauty, too. As is her ass. Hmm, I’d like some of that.”
My back snapped straight. If my voice wasn’t a mere croak, I would have yelled down that I’d disembowel the little prick if he went anywhere near Harri or Alicia.
Dax cocked his head. “Haven’t I seen you with Wal Stroeder on occasion? He’s a chef at one of my restaurants. He’s also one of my tenants.”
I felt my brows snap together. Who gave a damn about Wal Stroeder, whoever the hell that was?
Fuck this shit. If Dax wasn’t going to deal with Sleazeball, I would.
Furious—and yeah, kind of hurt—I hurried out of the office, stalked across the upstairs hallway, banded down the stairs … and saw Dax returning inside.
I made a beeline for him as he closed the front door. “The fuck was that?” I demanded, which would have sounded much more assertive if the words weren’t so hoarse and raspy.
His brow puckered in confusion.
“I was on your office balcony, I saw a preview of what happened out there,” I explained.
With a sigh of realization, he rubbed at the corner of his eyebrow.
I perched my hands on my hips. “How could you not have punched that sack of shit? I heard the crap he said about me and my sisters.”
Dax dropped his arm back to his side. “Addison—”