Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Tired of being gently led away by him, I whirl around and demand brutal honesty with my biting tone. “What did she tell you, and don’t leave anything out.”
I cross my arms to show I mean business, but with our size difference, it’s just plain silly. Still, I try for intimidation even if it won’t work.
He rubs his jaw to stifle his smile before he answers. “She called to let me know you were on the island.”
Yes, but I know that couldn’t have been the end of it. We’re talking about a loving but meddlesome Spanish grandmother here. “What else?”
“She had some concerns…”
Now we’re getting to the truth.
I steel my spine for the worst. “About?”
“You being young and naive. She asked if I would watch over you.”
Welp, the dignity I was worried about earlier has officially left the building.
“I’m not that young. And I’m certainly not naive.”
His eyes narrow like he doesn’t quite buy the second part of my claim. “Sheltered little rich girl off on her own for the first time?” His smile is goading me into seeing the humor of my situation. “You can’t blame her for worrying.”
My molars clench. “I don’t need a babysitter if that’s what you think.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not applying for the job,” he says in a lazy drawl.
Why does he have to say it like that, like he’s twisting this conversation into something silly and sexy and fun.
I shake my head trying to figure out some way to salvage this. “She’s very old, my Lita. Very old. And you know she probably didn’t even know who she was calling when she dialed your number. Sometimes she rings me thinking she’s speaking to her dog groomer. So don’t worry, you’re off the hook.”
I expect him to toss his hands up in relief. For a moment he does look away. Hope soars in my chest. Soon I’ll be done with this—with him—forever. No more provoking man. No more heart-racing conversations. Then, his dark, romantic gaze settles back on me like a two-ton boulder. A slow, challenging grin spreads across his features.
“Too late. You’re already my problem.”
I gulp in disbelief. What is he saying? His problem? What could that possibly entail?
“So, what? You’re going to keep tabs on me? Daily check-ins?”
I try to make it sound ridiculous, because it is!
“There! Dieu merci. I find you, finally!” The stilted English comes from behind me moments before an arm loops around my waist and someone tugs me backward off my feet.
What the—
Belatedly I realize it’s Boréal holding me against his body like we’re long-lost lovers. My toes dangle helplessly off the ground.
I’d actually completely forgotten about the guy. I didn’t even tell Simone about him asking for my number. Earlier, I watched him a little during his set. He was great with the crowd, captivating everyone and building the energy inside Aura until it felt like the whole place was charged with an electric current.
But obviously throughout the night, he’s indulged in something or somethings. The alcohol at least I can smell on his breath.
“You are good?” he asks me in his heavy French accent.
Cristiano replies before I can. “She’s fine. Put her down.”
“Yes, please—” I try to wiggle out of his grasp to help defuse the situation, but he doesn’t let up. For being so stick thin, he’s surprisingly strong. He whispers something into my hair that I can’t quite make out. I think it’s in French.
Oh god. He’s really tipsy. Or worse.
“I was wanting your number earlier, but they wouldn’t give it out.”
“Put her down,” Cristiano commands, harsher this time.
I’ve never heard him sound quite so intense. A shiver racks down my spine that has nothing to do with Boréal. Cristiano’s try me tone makes me very much want to try him.
I pat Boréal’s arm. “You really should put me down,” I say simply.
The DJ smirks at Cristiano. “You are the bodyguard?”
His French accent twists the into ze.
My eyes widen as Cristiano steps closer to us. Apparently he’s done with words, and I think he’s about to get physical with Boréal. Fortunately Ramón arrives just in time. He takes a position slightly behind Cristiano, waiting for Cristiano’s command to proceed.
Cristiano juts his chin toward the DJ. “Escort our friend out to his driver and make sure he leaves.”
Boréal spits on the floor, then curses in French. I guess he doesn’t like the idea of getting escorted off the premises, but at least he finally lets go of me. I didn’t realize just how tightly he was gripping me, and now my lungs can expand again. Arrogant asshole. If Ramón wasn’t escorting him off the premises, I would be!
Ramón nods for Boréal to get going, and then two other security guards flank the Frenchman as he walks out of the club. He doesn’t look back at me even once, but he does ask one of the security guards for a cigarette.