Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Another taxi stopped behind us and gestured wildly for Maximus to move his pickup. After one dark look from Maximus, the driver squeezed past us.
I peered up at him, warmth creeping over my cheeks. He was more than a head taller than me, and his tight white T-shirt did little to hide his muscles and tattoos. I wondered how many hours he had to spend in the gym to look like this and then decided I had no business contemplating that. I tore my gaze away and climbed into the passenger seat, confused by the residue heat in my body.
Maximus closed the door, then jogged to the driver’s side and got in. “Buckled up?” he asked, unfazed.
I nodded, still trying to determine why I felt slightly lightheaded in his proximity. Maximus was attractive with strong features, sharp cheekbones, a pronounced chin, and a very trained body. The most astonishing thing about him was his eyes, though. The unusual amber stood out against his almost black brows and thick black lashes. But I didn’t like tattoos, not just his—and he had many of them at first glance and probably more hidden beneath his clothes—but in general, and the stories I’d heard about Amo’s and his partying had never really made him attractive in any way.
“Your dad sent me. He knows we’re alone,” Maximus implored as he started the car. He obviously thought my silence was due to unease, which wasn’t the case, at least not in the way he assumed.
I gave him a quick smile, then loosely wrapped my arms around my leather tote bag. The feel of the smooth leather beneath my fingertips calmed me. My younger and outgoing sister, Inessa, often accused me of being too comfortable because I never sought contact with people outside our extended family, even at social functions. Suddenly alone with someone I didn’t know well, I realized how awkward I was because of “laziness.” “I know. I’m grateful you agreed to help.”
He pulled out of the parking lot. One of his arms was casually draped over the center console while he steered the vehicle with the other. “Sure. You need to get to your father safely.”
Silence fell over us as we headed out of the busier part of Manhattan. The Broadway was always a nightmare traffic-wise at this hour.
I wasn’t sure what to talk to Maximus about. After a day packed with courses, my brain was too frazzled to come up with topics we might have a common interest in. He probably didn’t want to hear about how medieval art depicted the plague and eschatology. Instead, I leaned back and gazed at the scenery passing the window. I hoped he wouldn’t take offense, but even knowing very little about him, he seemed like the type of person who preferred silence over idle chitchat.
“We’ll have to take a detour because of a major accident, and your father’s meeting was outside Manhattan,” Maximus explained. I simply nodded and closed my eyes.
“Fuck!”
His roar made me jump in surprise after I started drifting off. Before I could ask why he cursed like that, the truck swerved to the left. I let out a startled cry and clutched my bag. My gaze darted to Maximus, hoping for an explanation. But his attention shifted between the rearview mirror and the street ahead.
I turned around in my seat to find out what was going on. Three cars were close behind us, driving in a manner that suggested they didn’t care about traffic laws. Maximus swerved the vehicle around a corner and picked up his phone. “We’re being followed—”
My eyes widened when one of the cars sped up even more.
It collided with our rear, and my head hit the side window.
Everything turned black.
Fingers raked through my hair. A soothing touch that made me want to purr like that stray cat that occasionally visited my parents’ shelter and drove our dogs absolutely mad. I wanted to keep my eyes closed and enjoy it. But the scent of blood and my lack of memory of where I was shook me from my state of calm. I peeled my eyes open. They felt heavy, and when my vision finally cleared, a woman’s face with big brown doe eyes came into focus right above me. It took several moments before I recognized Sara Cancio. Her fingers were responsible for the gentle touch, and it must have been her blood I’d smelled because the left side of her brown hair was matted from a head injury. “You’re hurt,” I rumbled. My voice sounded even deeper and rougher than usual. I cleared my throat, but it felt as if I hadn’t drunk anything in days.
“You’re worse,” she said with a faint smile. She looked pale, and even though I wasn’t familiar with her facial expressions, she was clearly scared.