Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 60572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 303(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 303(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
“Sounds like you two had a good relationship at least. That’s more than most people can say.”
“I love Redmond,” I said and meant it. “He saved my life in so many ways. But Redmond’s an Oligarch and more like our father than he’d like to admit.”
“He’s violent?”
“No, not like that. Stubborn. He can be an asshole.” I met Nervosa’s eyes. “I’m warning you now. Redmond won’t react well to your news.”
He tightened his grip on my hand. “I don’t want to talk about business.”
“What do you want to talk about then? You want to hear the filthy details of my sad life? I was given everything, but beaten and tossed around like trash. How’s that?”
“No, Melanie, that’s not what I need.” He tugged on my arm and pulled me across the short gap between our chairs. His other hand came up and wound its way into my hair, pulling it tight. I sucked in a breath and tilted my chin up, my mouth opening, his lips inches away. I could taste him already, and my lips trembled, a moan on the edge of my tongue. “We’re more alike than we are different. You don’t have to hate me.”
“I don’t hate you,” I said, wishing it wasn’t true. “I’m afraid of you. And what you want to do to me.”
“What do I want?”
“To keep me tied up like everyone else.”
His face twisted, like I’d punched him in the guts. He shook his head, lips brushing against mine. “No. That’s the last thing I want.”
“Then why bring me back here? Force me to go through this?”
“I need your help like you need mine.”
“So you say.”
His jaw tightened and he kissed me.
I kissed him back. I threw myself into that kiss, stupid and heedless of the consequences. Nervosa was so beautiful, the tattoos, his handsome face, his full lips, his muscular body, and his scars, his broken skin and his shattered past, his bruised childhood and battered life. I wanted him, all of him, needed to peel apart the layers that made him up to find the man beneath it all, beneath the Oligarch and the killer. I wanted to know the boy that played chess and won out of desperation. I wanted to know the child he’d been before his parents ruined him and his adopted parents trained him.
I never would. But I wanted to try.
The kiss lingered, like lemongrass and sage. His fingers tightened their grip in my hair as he pulled me closer before he released me again. I pressed my forehead against his, breathing hard.
“That was a mistake,” I said, staring into his incredible eyes.
“Maybe,” he said.
“You can’t even deny it.”
“I make a lot of mistakes, but you’re not one I’d regret.”
I smiled and let out a breath before pulling myself away and untangling my fingers from his. “You’ve got all the right words, don’t you?”
“I wish I did.”
I stood and walked to the railing. His kiss lingered on my lips, a frigid buzz that sent a sharp spike into my core.
“I want to show you my room,” I said without looking at him.
This might be my only chance. After tonight, I’d return to Stanford, and he’d go back to scheming and playing his Oligarch games. I wouldn’t be a part of his plan anymore.
“I’d love to see it.”
I nodded and couldn’t look at him. I was blushing too deeply, and I was afraid he’d notice my lips and hands trembling. I walked into the house and he followed close, saying nothing, his massive presence like the distant mountains, oppressive and beautiful and magnetic all at once.
Chapter 15
Melanie
I don’t know what I was thinking.
I wasn’t. Not really. Anyone in their sane and rational mind would work very, very hard to keep an Oligarch out of their bedroom.
Instead, I invited the most dangerous one of all.
My body trembled as I led him through the house. It was quiet, and most of the staff was busy elsewhere. My mother was locked in her wing, doing whatever she did—probably drinking and brooding. My brother wouldn’t be around until tomorrow morning.
I was born in this cage. The beautiful views, the priceless art. None of it mattered. At some level, I always understood how privileged I was, that I could have anything I wanted—so long as it could be delivered. If it could come to us, and was properly vetted and searched, I could make it mine.
That lost its shine very quickly. I never cared about stuff. Clothes, toys, whatever. I had nobody to play with and nobody to dress for.
In a lot of ways, I envied the staff.
We treated them well—mostly. They made good money and had good benefits. They’d retire comfortably if they kept working for our family for their whole career. We asked for absolute secrecy and loyalty, but we rewarded them handsomely.