Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 128980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
“You can sleep here.”
I look up and see her bending over the couch, brushing more clutter from the seats. I nearly go cross-eyed. Fucking hell, she’s killing me! “I’ll clear it,” I offer, anything to stop her bending over like that. “Let me.” I muscle past her, literally bumping her out of the way with my hip to avoid extended contact.
“Fine.” She sounds slighted as she wanders to her bedroom. “Such a fucking gentleman.”
I ignore her insolence and take my gun from my trousers, resting it on the arm of the sofa. Then I kick my shoes off as I unfasten my fly, noticing Camille hasn’t closed her bedroom door completely. Her innocent move, leaving a small gap, makes me feel a little better about being in another room.
I yank my tie loose and unbutton my shirt, then spend five minutes looking for a clear space to put them. I give up and place my neatly folded pile on top of some clothes strewn on a chair. Making my way back to the sofa, I fall to my arse and rub my palms over my face, sighing. It’s still going to be a long night.
“Woman has a death wish,” I mumble.
She catches my eye through the gap in the door as she moves around her room. I need to look away. I need to close my eyes and pretend she’s not there. God damn her, she trashes that plan when she stops right in front of the door, her back to me. Slowly, too slowly to be innocent, she draws her T-shirt up over her head and tosses it to the side.
My breath catches in my throat. The exposure of that vast expanse of her creamy skin is a vision that will never leave me. Good God, I’m shifting again, and my hand rests over my cock, which has developed its own heartbeat. I’m underestimating this woman. There was nothing innocent about her leaving that door open. Nothing innocent at all.
She’s playing me like a fucking fiddle. Maybe I’m the one who has the death wish.
She disappears from view and all the stored air I was keeping locked in my burning lungs gushes out, my heart dancing in my chest. I grab my pills from my bag and swallow on a hard gulp, hoping they’ll not only keep the nightmares at bay, but also give me some resistance from my new client.
Chapter 8
CAMI
It’s still dark, but I can hear the birds tweeting the arrival of morning. I haven’t slept a wink. I couldn’t switch off and go to sleep knowing he was in the next room. With a gun. I’ve never seen a gun, not in real life. He looks good with a gun. It suits him too well. He looks good, full stop.
My eyes feel puffy and will undoubtedly be red. Not a good look when I have a meeting with my agent today. Most of my night was spent on my iPhone searching for information on Jake Sharp. I felt compelled to find out everything I could, since he has a detailed knowledge of me and my life. I found nothing, though a search on Google Images threw up a few photographs of various celebrities with him in the background, looking impassive and cool. Other than that, nothing. The dead end has frustrated me more than I care to admit.
What’s his story?
It would be easier to hate him if I wasn’t so insanely attracted to him. He must be, what? Mid-thirties? I don’t really have anything to go on where his age is concerned, except the dusting of grey at his temples and his obvious experience in the job.
Rolling onto my side, I stare at the gap in my door. I know he saw me last night when I shamelessly stripped before crawling into bed. I’m still at a loss as to why I did that. Self-satisfaction? I don’t know. Maybe the unreasonable urge to have it confirmed that he’s as attracted to me as I am to him got the better of me.
I crane my neck, looking into the lounge until something comes into view. His leg. His naked leg, still and stretched down the couch. I breathe in, my eyes nailed to it. I can see the dark hairs from his ankle to just above the knee, and compelled to get his thigh in my sights, I place my palms into the mattress at the side of my bed and start leaning out a bit. Disappointment fills me when he shifts, taking his long, lean limb out of view. I throw a filthy look at the door and lean some more, edging out slowly and carefully until his foot is back in my sights.
“Fuck!” My hands slip off the side of the mattress, and my body follows them down to the floor.