Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 84635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
I didn’t see any, but that was no guarantee.
Keeping the rest of my body still, I slithered my arm out from under the coverlet and swiped at the glass of water on the nightstand.
It fell to the floor with a loud thump. Not exactly the shattering distraction I was hoping for, but it was enough.
I waited…afraid to breathe…as I listened. And listened. I didn’t sense anyone.
Still concerned about cameras, I slid to the foot of the bed and crawled out from under the covers. Keeping low, I crept on my hands and knees over to the massive bay window. Furniture threw shadows that shifted when the wind nudged the curtains. I flinched twice at shapes that turned out to be a wardrobe and a standing mirror. I stayed along the wall and worked my way to the pane furthest to the left. After pushing the heavy damask curtain aside, I peered out.
An unrelenting cold rain gave an air of gothic gloom to the carefully manicured gardens below. I flipped the latch. After checking over my shoulder, I gingerly slid the window sash up. An icy gust of wind cut through my blouse and made my teeth rattle as I poked my head out.
I scanned the grounds as well as the side of the house. Damn. I was easily three stories high. Even if I could get to the drainpipe a few feet to the right, it would be far too dangerous to try to shimmy down its wet metal.
“Are you so tired of my company that you would risk plummeting to your death to escape me?”
I yanked my head back inside so quickly I stumbled backward, my body heavy and sluggish with exhaustion and the remaining toll of the Scotch. I tried to catch myself and instead landed hard on my ass.
Greyson was standing only a few feet away, wearing nothing but a pair of black silk pajama pants. His chiseled, tattooed chest on full display. He didn’t say anything or offer a hand to help me up. Just raised an eyebrow, waiting for my answer.
“I want to leave.”
“Now, why would you want to do something like that?” His tone suggested we were discussing wine with dinner, not him holding me against my will.
I would not take the bait.
He knew damn well why.
I gripped the back of a nearby chair and rose. My full height only brought me up to his shoulder. “You can’t keep me here against my will.”
Greyson smiled. “Wanna bet, little bird?”
CHAPTER 26
SKYLAR
Ipulled the car visor down and checked my reflection.
Reaching into my crocodile skin Birkin bag, I snatched up my Chanel Carmen red lipstick and reapplied. I pressed my lips together and ran the tip of my pinkie finger under my full bottom lip to clean up the line. I then applied some pressed powder to my nose and upper cheeks, so my complexion looked smooth and matte.
Perfection was the only weapon I had.
It was how I showed my status, my power and privilege. People said women like me didn’t work. They were wrong. This was my job, and it was how I was supposed to become the next Mrs. Worthington.
One way or another, I was taking back what was mine.
I reached for my cordless curler and turned it on. After freshening up my hair, I used a comb to tease some volume before securing a large section up and back.
Honestly, what did Pierce see in that mousy little townie when he could have someone like me?
His attraction to her was an insult. The way he stared at the back of her head during the courtroom proceedings today was embarrassing. His obsession with seeing Madison behind bars had shifted into something physical. Almost something out of control which was startlingly out of character for him. I should know. He’d never stared at me that way. Damn him.
I continued to study my reflection. No, it didn’t make sense. Clearly, he was suffering from some sort of delusion.
Whatever the reason, he definitely wasn’t thinking about avenging his brother’s death anymore.
He was too busy playing with his little toy.
And that was a big problem for us.
Turning off the car, I paused with my hand on the door handle. The unadorned building on the outskirts of town was mostly dark with no welcoming, warm light streaming through its hazy windows.
Between me and the building were countless potholes filled with muddy water, and no doorman. This day just kept getting better and better. With a resigned sigh, I grabbed my bag and held it over my head as I exited the car. The downpour would probably ruin the expensive purse, but what did I care?
It wasn’t my money I was wasting. I’d just pout my lips, let a fake tear or two slide down my face, and I’d get it replaced. The hardware on this one was scratched anyway.