Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
“I’m fine.”
“You’re pasty and sweating and look ready to pass out. C’mon.” He swept me off my feet before I could protest.
I grappled for his neck, grunting as my wound throbbed. “That didn’t help! What are you doing?”
“Taking you home. Akiva.” Ramsay whistled for her, and she raced after us as he bridal-style carried me to his Defender.
“This is ridiculous. Put me down.”
He did.
In his Defender.
Frustration boiled toward fury as he and Akiva rounded the vehicle and got in on the driver’s side. Akiva stopped mid jump into the back to swipe my cheek with her tongue, and her sneaky affection softened me somewhat.
But only somewhat.
“What did I tell you about bossing me around?” I gritted my teeth as Ramsay started the engine. “Only okay in the bedroom.”
“And when you do stupid things like walking across the village when you’re supposed to be resting.”
“I have been resting. For days. Dr. Vincent also told me to exercise in increments. Which I have been doing.”
“Fourteen days. You were stabbed fourteen days ago.” Ramsay drove down the hill away from the B and B. “Stop trying to push your recovery.”
Seething, I waited until we were parked outside Taran’s, which was literally a two-minute drive away. Walking “across the village” was nothing. He made it seem like I’d walked miles and miles.
“We need to talk.”
“Akiva, wait here.” Ramsay jumped out of the Defender, and I threw open the passenger side. “Wait!” he practically barked.
If I could set someone on fire with my eyes, Ramsay McRae would have been ash. “Don’t even think about carrying me again!”
He ignored my wrath but gently eased me down out of the four-by-four, “letting” me walk on my own.
“You’re not going anywhere.” I pointed a finger at him. “After everything I’ve been through, I deserve two minutes of your time. And I swear if you drive off right now, I will just walk back to the B and B.”
Ramsay slammed the driver’s-side door shut, his belligerence clear, and gestured for me to lead the way into the bungalow.
Despite my need to be in control of the conversation, as soon as I saw the sofa, I lowered myself into it and released the breath I’d been holding.
Ramsay stood in the middle of the living room, arms crossed over his chest. He swept his gaze over the room, taking in the photos and artwork and clutter of ornaments that had belonged to Taran’s mom. She hadn’t had the heart to go through any of it yet, but I was hoping once I was better, I could help her with that.
Finally, his attention returned to me. “Do you need anything?”
“Answers.”
At his instant closed expression, I huffed bitterly, “I don’t expect answers regarding Shawn Prescott or Halston. I know I’m not going to get them. But I want answers about us.”
He remained expressionless, not even shifting his feet. “It was a casual thing between us.”
Even though I’d suspected it was coming since the moment we’d left the hospital, it still hurt like a motherfucker. Yet I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of crying. Even if I needed more than that. I needed to know why. “So … when you said it was more than just sex between us … what did that mean for you?”
That muscle in his jaw ticked and he made an exasperated sound. “Can we not do this?”
“You want to end it without an explanation?”
“I just did.” His gaze returned to mine. Cold. Glacial, even. “I told you when we started sleeping together that it was all you’d get from me. It ran its course. We’re done.”
“You must think I’m an idiot.” My expression clearly advertised my disgust because his features hardened and he looked out the window to avoid me. “Suddenly after I get stabbed and you go off doing God knows what on my behalf, it’s over? You don’t do what you’ve done for someone who is only a fuck.” Tears threatened now, but I held on tight to them, forcing them down.
“And what have I done?” His question was gruff.
He still wouldn’t look at me.
“I don’t know the details. But it couldn’t have been easy. You had to use some major resources to find Prescott that fast.”
“What do you want from me?” Ramsay’s head whipped toward me. “I’m trying to bow out of this without fucking hurting you!”
“You don’t think this is hurting me?”
His shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry, Silver. I am. But I told you. I warned you. I do life alone.” With that, he exhaled a shaky sigh. “I don’t want things to be strange between us. I’d rather we part as … friends.”
Friends?
He wanted to part as friends?
I let out a slightly hysterical huff of laughter. “Okay,” I said, sharp sarcasm stinging my words. “Let’s be friends. Maybe we can get coffee sometime and you can tell me about your latest casual fuck and how she compares to me. Sound fun?”