Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
“Sleep now.” He pulled the heavy covers to her chin, tucking the edges tightly around her arms in a way that made her feel slightly trapped. The enormous bed engulfed her in heavy furs and silk.
But when he removed his shirt, her relaxed state shifted abruptly to panic. “Wait.”
He stilled, one hand on his belt, eyes warning her he took orders from no one. Especially her.
Her gaze dropped to the scar on his back. The raised edges formed the familiar muzzle of a bear. That wasn’t the mark of an injury. That was burned into his skin intentionally. She wondered if it was his intention or someone else’s?
“Shut your eyes.”
“But Ash said—”
“Ash isn’t here.” He unbuckled his belt and pulled the leather free with a slithering snap.
Her heart raced as he climbed into the bed beside her, his body over the covers.
“Please don’t—” Her words cut off as his cold, black glare snapped to her face.
His laugh was gruff and dismissive. “Mne eto ne interesno, prekrasnaya lgun’ya.” Then, as if recalling she didn’t speak Russian, he translated, “I’m not interested. I am only here because I don’t trust you, prekrasnaya lgun’ya.”
He spoke as if she were a tedious inconvenience. “What does that mean, prekrasnaya lgun’ya?” She butchered the pronunciation.
“Beautiful liar. Now shut your eyes.”
She did as he commanded, but sleep was impossible. Every breath from his lungs reminded her she wasn’t alone and there was an enormous, wild, possibly-killer beside her. It also didn’t help that she was naked under the covers in only a towel.
Weren’t the cameras enough? Did he have to be so close she could smell him? Not that his scent was unsavory. But it was unique enough that she now recognized it as solely his. And he was the one man she didn’t want to be alone with.
She rolled to her side and huffed.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“Do they pay you for lies?”
She glanced over her shoulder and glared at him. “They?”
“The men who sent you here.”
“No one sent me here.”
“Exactly what a spy would say.”
“You seriously think I’m a spy?”
“I know you’re a thief.”
She was done arguing semantics. “Yes, I stole your clothes and broke into your house uninvited. I think I’ve already paid enough for my crimes.”
His gruff laughter was terrifying. “Do you now?”
She snapped her mouth shut before she got into more trouble. “I just want to sleep.”
“Then shut your mouth and close your eyes.”
That sounded like a good plan.
She thought restlessness would keep her awake, but she’d awoken sometime later, well-rested and alone. Her dreams had been a chaotic wash of visions that made no sense. She’d been running through a wild forest, chased by three bears—a grizzly, a gorgeous while polar bear, and a black bear.
Her hand brushed over the covers where Hunter had been, finding the sheets cold. She searched the room for a camera, but didn’t see a brass bear head.
Stone had claimed he’d watched her last night. Ash said there was always someone watching. Who watched her now?
Perhaps all of them. “Oh, god.”
Mortification over her performance in the kitchen returned. She recalled stripping off her wet clothes and changing last night, certain she must have looked like a wet rat on death’s door. Was this the entry to her slow death?
“Shit.” She needed to think.
These men were thorough, and with the surveillance system around the house—House? Castle? What the hell was this place?—Regardless of the name, she needed to remember she had no privacy. They were most likely watching her now. Observing. Studying her every move to see how she thought and acted.
Sudden awareness washed over her like a chill. She would only show what she chose to share. Just because she was their prisoner and…
She winced, not wanting to admit that she was now some sort of communal concubine. She was a prisoner. But so was the sultan’s wife, the one who enchanted him for a thousand and one nights.
She needed to be smart. She couldn’t show fear. And she wouldn’t cower. Whatever these next few days brought, she’d face it head-on and deal with the fallout later. Eventually, the storm outside had to pass. And while they might be the only home for miles, they certainly weren’t the only men in the Isles of Kassel.
The more agreeable she pretended to be, the more freedom and trust they’d allow. She could do anything for a short time. This wasn’t her forever. If she played their little game, she’d eventually break free. Then, she could follow her plan to start a new life.
Aware she had an invisible audience, she sat up and ran her fingers through her golden hair, breaking up the tangled curls. When the blankets fell, exposing her breasts, she didn’t bother to cover herself. The more comfortable she became with her nudity on her own, the less they could use it to manipulate her.