Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 126030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
He said it like that might matter to her.
“Great.” She started to edge around him. “You did great today.”
He stepped in her way. “Yes, thank you.” He put a warm hand on her upper arm. “At first we didn’t know—“
Tristan’s hand shot out, his body moving from behind her. She hadn’t heard him approach! His fingers tightened as he gripped Sam’s throat. With a show of strength that widened her eyes, he lifted the lead enforcer into the air with unspeakable menace and zero effort. Sam’s face turned red, and his eyes tightened in fear as Tristan leaned in.
“If you touch her again,” Tristan said, his nightmare magic soaking the air around him, “I will rip that arm off. Do I make myself clear? She has a claim on her. It belongs to me.”
He waited for a second while the other gargoyle sputtered and tugged on Tristan’s arm. His feet kicked. He dipped his head in an urgent nod.
Tristan flung him away as though he were nothing. The lead enforcer hit the ground and slid past the section’s barriers. Nessa’s heart pounded in time with the pulse in her core. Holy hell, he was hot when he was possessive and incensed. She saw now why Jessie liked it when Austin got like that.
Tristan slipped his arm around Nessa’s shoulders. Electricity danced within the touch, and she leaned in gratefully.
Gerard watched the whole thing with interest, then resumed his conversation with Ulric. He wasn’t worried about Tristan manhandling his Guardian.
“Sit.” Tristan stopped at his chair.
“It’s fine, I can—“
His voice turned deep and rough and commanding. “Sit,” he said again.
Damn that heat racing through her. She turned and let him help her into the bar-height seat. He stood beside her, his arm over the back of her chair and his chest partially pointed at her. He leaned in slightly, like a shifter advertising a claim on his mate.
She sighed and relaxed her shoulder against his chest.
“You put on a good show,” he murmured, “but you look like you don’t feel well.”
“I feel much worse than that.”
He didn’t laugh at her jest. “Do you need me to go find Indigo?”
“They couldn’t reach her. It’s fine—“
“So help me god, Natasha, if you say it is fine one more time, I will spill red wine on your dress.”
She laughed silently as her heart swelled. “I feel like death warmed over, but I just had a Coke, I have what Niamh thinks is the cure, and the second Gerard’s back is turned, I am going to sneak out of here. I will be—“
He put up a finger, a warning in his glowing eyes.
She smiled at him. “I will be okay.”
“What does Niamh think—” He noticed her untouched drink. “Ah, right. The hair of the dog.”
He took the glass and pressed his full lips to the rim. She watched the brown liquid crawl toward his mouth, and then his Adam’s apple as it bobbed with his swallow. He nodded, probably to himself.
“Good quality. It might help.”
She couldn’t bring herself to want that kind of help.
He clearly saw that and kept the drink. He’d finish it.
“You look handsome,” she admitted, because he’d made her feel pretty earlier when he couldn’t help staring, and because he made her feel cherished now, watching over her and offering to go get help despite being the most important person in the room. “You look equally handsome when you’re all battle stained and shirtless.”
“I don’t smell as good then, though.”
She laughed, letting her head fall against him. His arm constricted, wrapping around her shoulders now. His thumb stroked her bare flesh.
“You are a vision,” he murmured. “You are equally a vision when you wake up in the morning, all sleepy and groggy, not sure if you’re in a good mood or angry that you’re awake, wearing a little grin and then a pout.”
A memory stirred from last night that she couldn’t quite grasp, hazy and blurred. She tilted her head back to look him in the face. His eyes dipped to hers, still glowing brightly, so open. In that quiet, unguarded moment, something deep and raw moved within his gaze, answered by a warmth pulsating in her middle.
“Do you want me to close my eyes?” he murmured, his lips curled at the corners. “You don’t seem well enough to go running just now.”
“When have you seen me in the morning?”
His gaze traced her features as though he were memorizing every line. “Just the once, and I will remember it always.”
She reached up to run two fingers against his raven stubble, drawing them along the underside of his chin.
“Yes, close your eyes,” she whispered.
He drank her in for another moment, giving her his entire focus, before doing as she said.
She trailed her fingers to the other side of his jaw before applying pressure. His face turned slightly and then he bent as she reached up for him. Their lips touched softly at first, electricity running between them, and then more firmly, moving together.