Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 141251 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141251 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
He tips his head and drains his glass, clearly disgusted.
My heart begins to hammer so hard, I feel like I can literally hear the blood pumping in my ears.
His eyes hold mine. “And what gives you the right to speak to my daughter like that?”
“I don’t have that right, and I’m sorry, it won’t happen again. She just got me so mad speaking to me like that in front of Samuel. He needs to be protected from her venom. He’s just a baby, and I know she’s troubled, but I needed her to know that it’s not okay and I won’t be putting up with it.”
He blows all the air from his cheeks and pours another scotch, glancing up mid pour, as if realizing he’s being rude by not offering me one. He tilts the bottle my way.
“Yes, please,” I say, grateful for the offer—I’ll try anything to calm my nerves. This is harrowing.
He fills my glass with ice and then pours me a scotch. Hell, where’s the mixer? Do I drink this straight?
He passes it over. “Thank you.” I take a sip and feel the heat go down and slowly warm my oesophagus. “Hmm.” I lift the glass and inspect the golden fluid. “This is… strong.”
A trace of a smile crosses his face as he sits back at his stool.
He watches me intently, and then finally responds. “Willow is a lot to handle, I know that.”
“I was a nightmare, too, at that age. I can handle her.”
“I have no doubt.” He purses his lips. “But this isn’t about Willow.”
I frown. “Then what is it about?”
“It’s about you being in my bedroom and looking through my things this morning.”
I gulp my drink down and nearly choke. This stuff is like rocket fuel. I cough loudly, clearing my throat. “Oh, that.” I wince around the fire in my throat. Sweet Jesus, am I drinking petrol here?
“Yes, that,” he answers. “Please explain what you were doing in my bedroom.”
I glance at the door. Run… just fucking run.
I swallow the sand in my throat. "I went to check on Samuel because I was worried about him sleepwalking again and I thought you had left for the day." I frown as I try to make this story sound reasonable. "On the way back to my room, I saw your door was open and I just..."
He watches me as he takes a sip of his drink.
“I wanted to see what your bedroom looked like.”
He raises a brow.
I offer a half smile and try to sweeten the story as much as I can. “I walked in, looked around, and then I saw your bathroom cabinet was slightly ajar.” I shrug. “You can find out so much about a person by their bathroom cabinet, you know?” I take another big gulp of my rocket fuel.
Holy hell, this is strong shit. I half cough, my oesophagus burned beyond belief.
I get a vision of myself falling off the stool, drunk, and I shiver in horror.
Great, a hopeless nanny who can’t hold her liquor, this story just keeps getting better and better by the minute.
He lifts his chin once more, in defiance and the energy between us begins to change. His questions somehow turn into a silent dare for me to tell the truth and he watches me intently. "What did you find out about me, Brielle?"
I swallow the lump in my throat. “You’re very neat,” I whisper nervously.
He doesn’t react.
“I really like your cologne.” A trace of a smile crosses his face, and it gives me the confidence to keep going.
“And… you’re… sexually active.”
His eyes darken and the air suddenly crackles between us.
He takes a slow, steady sip of his scotch, and I watch closely as his tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip. I feel my insides clench.
Huh?
He leans forward in his chair. “What are you doing here, Brielle?” he whispers. The electricity between us has stolen my ability to think straight. “Drinking the strongest alcohol known to man?” I offer.
He smiles sexily and releases a low chuckle. “I meant, why did you come to England?”
I bite my bottom lip. “To get away from my ex-boyfriend. We broke up last year and I needed a change… to move on.”
His eyes drop to my lips. “And how long has it been since you’ve been with a man?”
I frown, but without putting my brain to mouth filter on, I whisper, “Too long. Way too long.”
Chapter Three
Our eyes are locked, and when his tongue swipes over his lips again, my breath catches.
“How long has it been since you’ve been with someone?” I ask.
What the hell is in this drink? Truth serum?
He smiles sarcastically. “My sexual behavior isn’t up for discussion tonight.”
My eyebrows rise in surprise. “But mine is?”
“I was merely doing a character analysis.”
I smile against my glass. “As am I.”