Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79244 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79244 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“Hey, sleepyhead. I’m happy you’re awake,” Damen says and puts the book he’s been reading on the empty seat next to him. In Cold Blood by Truman Capote. How appropriate. The cup goes on a side table attached to the wall, and as I rise, taking in the white-and-gray space we’re in, it becomes clear this is no ordinary plane. Not just because of its size and the fact that we’re on our own, but because everything looks clean and polished.
“Is this a private jet?” I mumble, surprised when a plush blanket falls off my shoulders and pools in my lap. I half expect to be cuffed to the seat, but I’m not. I guess I can’t run away mid-flight, but it does tell me he’s not afraid I’ll attack him with a plastic knife. Going by how proficient he was with Happy, I’d rather not try.
Damen smiles. “Yes. The chef will prepare your breakfast whenever you’re ready.”
“I’m guessing I don’t have a choice about where I’m going?” I swallow, pretty sure alerting any of the staff on board is pointless.
Damen sighs and picks up a frosted bottle of water, then pours some into a glass, which he then nudges my way. “We’re going to spend Christmas with my family, just as we agreed. Here, you must be thirsty.”
“And if I say I changed my mind?” I ask but greedily drink the contents of the glass, because I’m parched. I don’t know how long I was out, but it must be the next day, since that’s when we were arranging to leave.
“Why would you do that?” Damen asks, as if he hadn’t murdered someone right in front of me, then put me to sleep. His eyes look so nice in daylight. Fuck. He was a fallen angel at night, but now he could play the role of God’s own herald. Even the way an unruly strand of wavy hair falls on his forehead is stuff straight from a romance novel.
“B-because maybe I’m a little scared?” Understatement of the fucking century.
Damen leans forward until both his elbows rest on his thighs, and he meets my gaze. “There is no reason for you to be scared, I promise. After all, you’re my husband.”
Did he just wink?
I can’t believe I agreed to this arrangement so easily. I’m a lamb lured into the slaughterhouse with promises of fresh grass. And in an attempt to escape Happy, I’ve ended up with a man who’s even more dangerous than him.
“I just… don’t know if I can do this after last night.”
He stares at me, not blinking for an uncanny length of time. “I think we will need to establish a set of rules to apply throughout this holiday. That is, unless you are truly convinced that you can’t imagine spending two weeks with my family and myself. Although it would be quite unfortunate if the police found your fingerprints on Happy’s baseball bat.”
My heart sinks. So this is it. I might have spent a night or two in jail over petty theft, but I’m not built for prison. I spend a while processing Damen’s threat while toying with my empty glass.
I look up at his handsome face again. What’s the worst that can happen? He could kill you, my inner voice suggests. But then again, he did protect me from Happy. My side still hurts from the baseball bat strike. I absentmindedly touch my ribs and realize I’m bandaged under my T-shirt.
“Okay. What would those rules be?”
The hazel eyes glint, and Damen reaches out, cupping my face with warm hands that smell expensive. “I knew you’re as smart as you’re cute. In that case, rule number one is, you need to enjoy yourself.”
I snort. “That’s rule number one?” I shouldn’t be relaxing thanks to his touch. He is the threat. And yet here I am, settling in despite how unreasonable it is. But it’s not like he killed a puppy, he got rid of human trash.
Damen nods. “Precisely. Rule number two, you will play the role of my husband and never break character. Rule number three, you tell no one about anything you’ve seen or will see. Including your ex’s unfortunate accident. Do I have your word?”
I just hope I don’t see things that end up haunting me for the rest of my life. “Yes. I can do that. I just don’t understand why a man like you needs a fake husband.”
A soft exhale leaves those tempting lips as Damen leans back in his armchair and sips from the cup. “As I’ve already told you, they expect me to some day bring a wife, which I won’t. I’m a gay man, and I will not be playing a game of pretend to appease my family. This is where you come in. Your presence will give them a bit of a shock, but at least now they will know. And I will be able to finally participate in the annual Christmas hunt.”