Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
“What happened with Nelson?” I asked.
“I shouldn’t tell you,” a smile crept onto her face, “but I will. He and his wife were transitioning into the program when we discovered he liked to rough her up sometimes. Like, he got off on it. You know the type.”
I really didn’t.
“I wanted to do it,” she continued. “Hell, I think everyone wanted to, but Jason got there first, and with his fists. It was a great way to get in a shitload of trouble. You can’t break a guy’s face and jeopardize a witness leaving the program, even if they are a huge piece of shit.”
Was that story . . . supposed to impress me? And it was stunning she’d revealed it, especially when we’d literally just met.
But I pushed the thought away and focused on my goal. “What if I wanted to request a different marshal on my case?”
She anxiously shifted her body weight to the other foot. “Okay, forget I told you all that.”
“No, it’s not that.”
Her eyebrows pulled together with confusion.
Shit, how could I tell her the truth? I didn’t want to be alone with Jason. Doing that filled me with desire I didn’t want to have. It threatened to swallow me whole.
“Being around Jason . . . makes me uncomfortable.”
Her voice went tight. “Why? What’s he done?”
“He hasn’t done anything,” I tried not to sound ashamed, “but I think I’d feel more comfortable with a woman marshal.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Well, there’s currently only one female marshal in the Chicago office and you’re looking at her.”
I swallowed thickly. I tried not to make snap judgements, but it seemed like she wouldn’t be the easiest to get along with. I’d noticed the shift in the men when she’d arrived, and how Jason had hung back.
But on the plus side, I wouldn’t want this marshal to kiss me. “All right, if I wanted to request a replacement—”
There was no knock. The door swung open and Jason charged in, his gaze finding me and his face masked in an unreadable expression. “Laurel, just wait a minute.”
I shot to my feet so quickly my vision hazed. The jerk had been listening to our conversation.
“Hey, we were just talking about you,” Caroline said dryly.
He shot her a stern look. “Give us a minute?”
He’d posed it as a question, but it felt more like a demand, and her uncertain gaze flitted to me. “I don’t know if I should.”
I didn’t want to look at him, but I couldn’t stop myself. He stood awkwardly with his thick arms folded across his chest, and to someone else his posture might have looked confrontational, but I had the strange sense he’d done it to prevent himself from reaching out for me. There was a silent plea lurking in his eyes.
Although I knew it was going to be a mistake, I nodded to dismiss her. “No, it’s fine.”
She hesitated for a moment but then must have realized she didn’t care. My pulse quickened when she turned and went, pulling the door almost closed behind her.
I lifted my chin as he strode forward and stopped only a foot away from me. I wanted to hold his gaze and appear unaffected even though I felt anything but. His proximity made goosebumps burst down my legs, but they were thankfully hidden beneath my tights.
“You were listening to our conversation,” I accused.
There was no denial or remorse in his expression. “You don’t want her on your case, trust me.”
His voice was hushed so no one else could hear. It was why he’d approached, why he stood so close. Close enough for me to feel his warm breath on my face.
I matched his quiet tone. “Why?”
“Because she . . .” He struggled to find the right words. “Because she can’t protect you the way I can.” His dark and serious eyes went wide. This was something he hadn’t meant to reveal, and his admission sent my heartbeat into overdrive.
The room grew small, and his presence seemed to fill every inch of it.
“Why do I make you uncomfortable?” he asked.
Oh, my God. I wasn’t about to explain it to him.
“Are you worried I’m going to hurt you?” He was cautious, almost gentle, which I suspected was rare for him. He gestured toward my bruised neck. “Like the man who did that to you?”
“No,” I said quickly.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Laurel.” He made a face like just the idea upset him. “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s my problem, not yours.” My gaze dropped to the ribbons bound at my ankles.
“What?”
It spilled from me without warning. “You’re irritatingly attractive.”
What the fuck? I turned away, desperate to be free of my embarrassment, but most of all, my desire.
He made it so much worse when he touched me again. This time his hand grasped my wrist, gently pulling me to face him again. He stared unblinking at his fingers wrapped around my wrist like he was both fascinated and horrified by what he was doing.