Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
After kissing his daughter good night, Damen checked his emails on his phone as he headed down to rejoin the others, and he ended up almost bumping into his wife at the foot of the stairs. "What the—-" He automatically curved an arm around a sheepish-looking Mairi to keep her from falling.
"Sorry," she whispered. "I didn't think it was right to intrude on Acheron." She nodded towards the balcony, where the other billionaire stood alone, his clasped hands poised over the glass rails. "I could be wrong," she murmured, "but I think I wouldn't be as much help as you'd be with whatever's bothering him."
Damen grimaced. "Are you saying you want us to have some kind of Brokeback moment?"
Mairi sent her husband a chiding glance. "Be serious, will you? Can't you see how troubled the man is?" She pushed him towards the balcony. "Now go and help him." There were things that men would only feel fit to confide to other men, and it was especially true with people like Acheron Simonides, whose rough childhood had kept him from being acquainted with the nurturing touch of the fairer sex.
The sound of footsteps had Acheron turning away from Miami's skyline, and to his surprise, he found Damen alone, holding two cans of beer. He murmured his thanks as the other man handed him one, and as he pulled the tab open, he asked, "Mairi?"
"She'll, err, join us in a bit."
Something about Damen's tone had Acheron arching a brow, and when his friend shrugged in response, it might as well be an admission that his hunch was right. "Do I appear so pathetic," he asked in a mutter of self-disgust, "that your wife thinks I'd need your manly shoulder to cry on?"
"She did express her concern in similar lines, ne." The acknowledgment had Acheron wincing, and Damen took a sip of his beer as he let a few moments pass for the words to set in. Finally, he said, "What you're experiencing right now - I've been there, you know. Hell, the whole world knows, and anyone else who doesn't can just pick up a book to read all about it."
Acheron didn't answer, but since he didn't say anything either, Damen supposed he could interpret that as his friend's willingness to listen.
"These things...they're usually a lot simpler than what we make them out to be. So if the girl turned you down, and you still want her..."
Acheron was irritated at the way the other man simply let the words hang. "Yes," he practically growled. "I still want her, and I don't even fucking understand why—-" He cut himself off when Damen shook his head.
"If there's one advice you'll take from me," Damen said quietly, "then let it be this. Forget the whys for now." Because you're not ready to face that yet. "And ask yourself this instead: what else can you give or give up to have her back in your life?"
Nine
IN THE SUDS, Pippi thought to herself as she continued with her newest and most shameful habit, which was to cyberstalk the man that had been haunting her thoughts and dreams for the past two weeks.
'In the suds' meant to be in trouble in Regency slang, and it was the perfect way to describe her mental state ever since she turned down Acheron Simonides' baffling offer to be her boyfriend for two months.
And until now, she wasn't quite sure if she had done the right thing. All she knew was that the decision had changed her life for good, and she could no longer stop yearning thinking of him.
In the suds, she thought again, knowing that she was just torturing herself needlessly with all these fact-digging sessions over the web. She had read the comprehensive entry Wikipedia had on him more times than she could count, and every line of People's article about last year's Sexiest Man Alive was already committed to her memory. Whatever publicly available information about him there was she already knew, and this included details of his horrific childhood (which she needed to know more of) and dating timeline (which she needed to know less of).
In any case, the bottom line was simple: Acheron Simonides was too complicated by half, had seen and suffered too much to ever give her the kind of life she had always thought was best for her.
Long story short, Pippilotta Jones, he's not for you, wasn't ever for you, and never will be.
And she knew this, accepted this, so why, blast it?
Why did she still see his face the moment she closed her eyes? Why had the taste of his lips never left her, and why in the bloody hell couldn't her body stop aching for him?
Why? Why? Why?
The answer eluded and taunted Pippi as it always did, words that were so close to the edge of her mind, rolling to the tip of her tongue but never quite managing to tumble out.