Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“I think you’re right about that,” he says quietly, a smile still on his lips. “So if that’s the case then why would I set up this meeting at all?” His eyebrows raise and I can tell this is some sort of stupid test, but I can’t help myself. My brain’s whirring, trying to think a few moves ahead.
“You want to piss Hugh off and make him do something stupid.”
“That’s one reason.”
“And you want him to know that you’re serious. Maybe Burke might even change his mind.”
“Another. But not the main one.”
I sit back, glaring at him, and he puts a hand on my thigh. My heart beats fast and I can hear it in my ears as he slowly moves it up my legs, touching my smooth, bare skin, stopping only at the edge of my skirt barely eight inches from the warm, wet spot between my legs. I shiver and there’s a stupid, insane, horrible voice in the back of my head that’s screaming for him to keep fucking going, to touch me where I shouldn’t be touched right here in the restaurant in our little corner booth.
“You want Hugh to know I was here.”
“Exactly,” he says, beaming at me, and squeezes my leg tight. A shiver of pleasure runs down my spine at the touch and at getting it correct. “I want him to know you’re mine.”
“You’re such a fucking prick.” I shove his hand away, that good feeling very quickly gone, and adjust my dress so more of my leg is covered. “You’re using me.”
“No, I’m protecting you.”
“That’s what everyone says when they’re fucking using someone else, so I call bullshit. I’m part of your damn game.”
“Hugh’s going to keep bothering you unless he thinks it’ll cost him something. I want him to know that I take you very seriously.”
“Oh, right, that’s one idea.” I lean closer to him, shaking with fury. “Or maybe he’ll get pissed off and mess with me even more because you can’t be around all day every day. He’ll hear that you brought me to an important meeting and think that I’ve chosen sides and my life will be a living hell. Don’t you get it, Kellen? This is my job. It’s my whole life.”
“Your whole life is a garden?”
“Yes,” I hiss and screw him for judging me. If I want to waste my time digging in the dirt and planting flowers and bushes and cacti then, darn it, I’ll do just that. If I want to be a gardener forever, I will. There’s no shame in finding a passion and pursuing it relentlessly, even if that passion doesn’t seem exciting to the outside world. He has no place to say a damn thing about what I want to do, not a single freaking word, that selfish prick.
“It can be more than that,” he says quietly. “I can give you more than just a job digging around in the dirt.”
“You’re going to get me killed.” I pick up my wine just to have something to do with my hands that isn’t strangling him. “Let me out.”
“No,” he says, shaking his head. I’m trapped in this booth with him and I’m not sure I can escape even if I make a scene. This place is filled with people loyal to Kellen, no doubt about it, and the few civilians eating right now likely won’t do a thing to help.
I may be in a full restaurant, but I’m very much alone.
Kellen chuckles to himself and I drink my wine, furious, and at least I can play the silent game and make this as uncomfortable as I can. But he doesn’t seem to mind one bit. Food comes not long later and we eat, mostly in silence. He prods me with questions, trying to draw me out again, but I remain stubbornly silent and refuse to engage until we finish eating and he finally slips out into the aisle.
I get up and go to storm past him, but he catches my wrist. I whirl, ready to scream in his face, but his eyes are serious. “You’re not going to say anything?”
I open my mouth then clamp it shut again. “There are a lot of things I want to say right now.”
“About the meal. This is my restaurant, remember?”
I glance at the empty plates and shake my head. “It was good. Is that what you want to hear?”
“Yes,” he says, letting me go. “It was.”
I walk out. He follows me at a leisurely pace. I reach the car first and kick the tire, pissed as hell. We drive back to the mansion and when we park, I throw open the door and jump out before he has a chance to protest.
But he follows me as I walk fast through the garden.
“You can’t be mad forever,” he calls out. “You think I’m using you, but believe me, Tara, I’m the lesser of two evils. Hugh will bleed you dry and give you nothing in return. At least I’m offering you something you want.”