Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23269 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23269 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
I break it, my breathing ragged. "Fuck. That wasn't—"
"Protocol?" She smirks, flushed. "Screw protocol."
My phone buzzes, breaking the moment in half. It’s Cass. "Update: Voss alibi shaky. Team en route."
I step back, cursing. "We can't."
She straightens her robe. "Can't what? Admit you want this?"
"I do." Honesty slips. "But job first."
"Fine. But this isn't over." She saunters away, leaving me hard and conflicted.
Day two heats up. The stalker hunt progresses, and Cass's team tails Voss. Indigo annoys me relentlessly: blasting music, "accidentally" spilling coffee on my shirt, demanding couple selfies.
"Smile, grump!" She snaps a pic, pressing close.
I growl, but pull her in. "You're impossible."
"You're irresistible."
By noon, there’s a fresh lead: Lila's linked to the florist. We stakeout from the SUV—me on binoculars, her "helping" by leaning in way too close.
"See anything?" Her breath on my neck.
"Distraction." But I don't move her.
We wait for hours, but see nothing. We finally head back to the Gilded Hart Hotel, and there’s a note under the door. Roses are red, your guard is blue. Soon he'll be gone, and it'll be me and you.
I secure it, and call Cass. "Poet's getting bold."
"Evac?" he asks.
"No. Trap."
Indigo reads it, pales but she masks it quickly. "Romantic."
"Not funny." I pull her close. "You're safe."
"With you? Yeah." Her admission is soft, rocking my nervous system out of whack.
What is she fucking doing to me?
We spar verbally all night—her mocking my rules, me countering with growls. Underneath it all, desire builds.
As she drifts to sleep on the bed (me on the couch again), she whispers, "Thanks, Mack."
Progress. But stalker's closing in. Tomorrow? Showdown.
FIVE
INDIGO
I wake to sunlight filtering through the penthouse curtains, the city below buzzing with Valentine energy. My body aches in a good way—no, a great way—from the tension that's been building since Mack stormed into my life like a grumpy thundercloud. Last night's kiss replays in my mind: his hands on my arms, pulling me close, the rough hunger in his mouth. God, it was electric. Unexpected. And over too soon when his phone buzzed. He pulled back like I'd burned him, muttering about protocols. But I saw the fire in his eyes. He wants me. And damn it, I'm starting to want him too. More than want. It’s almost like I like him. The solid, protective type under all that growl. But admitting that? No way. Taunting him is way more fun. It also helps me keep the upper hand.
I stretch, and the silk sheets slide off my skin. I glance at the clock: 9 AM. Day three in Cupid City. The showcase is tomorrow night—Valentine Lingerie extravaganza, my big reboot. I need to nail the fittings today, practice the struts, embody that heart-eyed charm. But with a stalker out there? It's like walking a tightrope in heels.
There’s a few texts from Etta.
Etta: How’re things?
Etta: Security? Hunk or no?
Etta: I spoke with Cassian and heard about yesterday. Call me.
I give her a quick call and update her, and she assures me she’ll be in Cupid City for the show. I don’t tell her about the kiss. I don’t tell her much of anything. I just assure her things are fine. We hang up and I glance around.
Mack's already up, of course. I hear him out on the balcony, low voice on the phone. Probably barking at his boss again. I slip into a robe—short, teasing—and pad out barefoot. He's at the railing, back to me, broad shoulders tense under his black shirt. Phone to his ear: "Yeah, Cass. Team tailed Voss last night—alibi's crumbling. He was near the florist. And Lila? Her socials went dark after the note. Push harder."
Voss. Derek, my sleazy ex. The thought sours my stomach. They're getting closer, and Mack's team is on it. Relief mixes with the fear I've been burying. I won't let it show.
He hangs up, turns, and his eyes lock on me. There’s a flicker of heat, then it’s gone. "Morning."
"Morning, bodyguard." I saunter to the kitchenette, hips swaying just a tad extra. "Sleep well on that lumpy couch? Or were you dreaming of protocols?"
He grunts, crossing his arms that bulge with muscle. "Slept fine. You?"
"Like a baby. Though the bed's big enough for two." I wink, pouring some coffee. "Fake couple optics, remember?"
His jaw ticks. "Not happening. Job's protection, not playtime."
"Oh, come on. After last night?" I hand him a mug, our fingers brushing. "That kiss wasn't exactly professional."
He takes it, his eyes darkening. "Mistake. Won't happen again."
"Liar." I lean against the counter, robe gaping just enough to tease him. "You liked it. Admit it, Mack. Under all that grump, you're human."
He steps closer, towering. "Human enough to know distractions get people killed. Eat. Fitting’s in an hour."
I roll my eyes, but grab yogurt from the fridge. "Bossy. What if I want pancakes? Heart-shaped, to fit the theme."
"Room service is vetted. Order what you want." He sits at the table, pulling out his laptop. "But we're not leaving until I clear the venue."