Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 53764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
With that, he turned and pulled her from her seat, locked his arm around her waist and led her from the restaurant.
He pulled her into the dark of the night, opened the passenger door of his car, and pushed her down into the seat. She swung her legs in, as if her body were on automatic, and lifted her eyes to his.
Marco looked down into Natalie's wounded blue eyes and a river of guilt and shame hit him in the guts so hard he bit down on his lip until he tasted blood. She was beautiful, sweet, and as near to innocent as anything or anyone he'd ever met. And he was tainting her. Exposing her to deviant people and fucked-up, sick things that she should never even know about, let alone get close to. He hated himself in that moment. She was beyond good and kind--and he was fucked-up--totally beyond redemption--totally unfit for someone like her.
He thought about the day the doorman and the concierge had thanked him for the cookies his housekeeper had baked for them. His mind supplied him with the accolades that Joy had reaped over Natalie. Was that only because his assistant had hated having to deal with Tanya and her pure bitchiness? He didn't think so. At the time it had seemed more of a warning to him; she had told him how nice and innocent Natalie seemed. She didn't dare try to warn him off her; she had only casually praised the girl while giving him a pointed look.
And Joy was right. Natalie was nice and innocent.
He should let her go.
There was no fucking way. He wouldn't let her go. He would try his damndest to keep her away from the people who colored his past--but he couldn't let her go.
She was the best thing that had ever happened to him.
He clicked her door closed, his mind on getting her back to his penthouse and locking her inside the bedroom with him as he walked around and sat down behind the wheel of the car.
Her cell phone was ringing and she answered it as he started the car and pulled away from the curb.
He unabashedly listened in on her side of the conversation.
"Hey." Her voice was shaky but became steadier as she went on. "Really? That's great, Justin!"--"Yes, I'll tell him."--"I'm fine. When do you think you'll be home?" Marco glanced over at her and saw that her face had fallen. "Oh. Okay. Be safe."--"Yeah, I've talked to her. She's fine but she's still got him freeloading off her." Another pause. "No, trust me, I won't go back as long as he's still living there."--Yes, I promise."--"I love you, too. Bye."
She ended the call and slipped the phone back in her purse just as they were coming to a red light. Marco turned and looked over at her. "The cousin?"
"Yes. He said to tell you he's putting in an extra rotation and is getting a huge bonus for it. He'll have the money to pay you back soon."
"It's not his debt, Natalie. I don't want his money. I won't take it."
"If it's not his debt--then you mean it's my debt."
"Yes."
"But you said the debt was cleared--I knew you didn't mean it."
"It is cleared--" he gritted his teeth. "It's never been about the goddamn money anyway. You know that."
Her face lost color and the light changed.
They drove in silence the rest of the way home.
****
When they arrived at the penthouse, Marco tossed his keys on the coffee table and grabbed her hand and pulled her down on the sofa with him. "Tell me the rest of it."
"Rest of what?" She shifted to face him.
"You told your cousin you've been talking to someone. Who've you been talking to?"
She studied him, feeling the need for some small measure of preservation. "I have friends, Marco."
"I know that." He put his hand to his mouth and stared her down. "Who?"
She rolled her eyes at him and said simply, "My mother."
"Your mother?" he asked sharply, surprise coloring his tone. "Your mother has a freeloader living with her who makes you so uneasy you won't go see her?"
She crossed her arms over her chest. "Wow. You really listened in on that conversation, didn't you?"
"Yeah, I sure the fuck did, Natalie," he stated firmly.
She drummed her fingers against her biceps and remained silent.
"Answer me," he demanded.
"No."
He growled low in his throat and began to reach for her. "Natalie--"
She jerked away from him and interrupted, purposely trying to throw him for a loop, "What kind of game were the Kennedys disappointed they wouldn't be playing tonight?"
He ignored the change of subject without a flinch and continued with his interrogation. "It doesn't take a goddamn rocket scientist to know what the fuck's going on. Your mother has a low-life son-of-a-bitch living with her who wants you. Does she know?"