Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 115435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
“She’d been fucking drugged, Miller.”
“Yes, by a stranger. Not a stalker or an ex-boyfriend. Not by someone she knows. It was a random thing that happened in a bar, and while upsetting and absolutely not fucking okay, it was a one-off. I’ve kept tabs on the idiot who did it. He’s not even from here. He’s from Vegas, for Christ’s sake. He’s no threat to her. But there is always a threat to you.”
“I don’t want anyone else protecting her,” I mutter and rub my hand over my face. “If I’m in town, it’s fine.”
“You sound ridiculous.” I’m this close to firing his arse. “One, there’s no threat. Two, you don’t live with her. It’s not like you’re with her all the time to save her from the non threat.”
“I’m getting really bloody tired of this speaking freely shite, Miller.”
“I won’t stay here again to babysit and stalk your girlfriend or whatever the fuck she is while you travel without protection all over the goddamn world. That’s not what I was hired to do. So if you want me to hire someone for her, I will. Otherwise, I’m done.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“I’m telling you how it is. Your safety is paramount. You put yourself at risk this week, and I don’t work that way. Sir.”
I grind my molars together. Was I being irresponsible and rash? Maybe, but dammit, she’d just been violated, and I didn’t want to leave her. Miller, begrudgingly, is not wrong. Had I known I’d be gone as long as I was, I would have taken him with me and hired someone to watch my girl. However, Miller is the best there is, so I know I need to acknowledge his point here.
Seems I’m smoothing out all kinds of feathers this week.
“We’ll hire someone to be on standby. If we have to leave town, I want someone watching her. Not fucking stalking her but making sure she’s safe.”
When Miller pulls up in front of the shop, I climb out of the car and stride inside.
I’m still wearing the suit I wore yesterday, but I took the coat and tie off when I boarded the plane. I’m fucking tired as hell, but I need to get my eyes on my angel and make sure she’s okay.
And there she is.
She doesn’t see me, so I hold back and take her in. It feels like I’m breathing for the first time in five days.
Her dark hair is down, hanging in loose curls. She’s wearing high-waisted camel-colored slacks with a sleeveless green blouse tucked into them. Her makeup is flawless and understated.
She’s barefoot. She kicked off her black heels, cast them aside a few feet away from her, and she’s stocking shelves.
Billie Blackwell is more beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen. Just being this close to her makes every nerve in my body sit up and take notice, and my dick has joined the party. I want to cup that gorgeous face and kiss the breath out of her.
She glances up and sees me, pauses, and swallows hard before returning to setting books on the shelf.
“You look amazing,” I say as I approach her.
“Better than the last time you saw me,” she replies, trying to make a joke.
“It’s not funny.” Without thinking, I reach out and brush my fingers through her soft hair. “It’s pleased I am to see you looking well, bumble.”
“I hate that name,” she mutters, but I don’t reply. She closes her eyes and seems to lean into my touch, but only for a heartbeat before she pulls away again. “What brings you in?”
“You. I just landed a few minutes ago. I’ve been in Dublin and then Sweden this week.”
Her eyebrows climb in surprise. “You’re probably exhausted. You should go home and rest.”
“Are you worried about me, angel?”
She bites that plump lower lip and shakes her head, fighting a smile. “Just using common sense. Thanks for the flowers earlier this week.”
“You’re welcome. How do you feel?”
“I’m all recovered. Monday was rough, but I’m fine now. Thanks again for all your help.”
“You don’t need to thank me. I wanted to stop in to say hello and check on you for a wee minute. And I brought you something.”
Her eyebrows pull together in a frown as I pull my hand out of my pocket, but she pulls back as if it might bite her.
“It’s just a necklace.”
Her wide amber eyes find mine, and she shakes her head. “That’s not just anything. That’s a Van Cleef & Arpels necklace.”
“It’s a shamrock,” I argue, looking down at it. “In malachite. Just a token from Dublin, angel.”
Her mouth bobs open, then closes again. Her gaze falls back to the bit of gold and gemstone in my palm.
“Can I put it on you, then?”
“I should not accept that.” She bites her lip, her cheeks darken, and I’ve never wanted to simply hug someone so badly, while at the same time, I want to boost her up against this bookshelf and fuck her into next week. “But it would be rude to say no to a gift.”