Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27995 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27995 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
“That’s it," I whisper against her neck. Take what you need from me.”
She moves faster, chasing her pleasure, her breath coming in short gasps against my ear. I can feel her tightening around me, getting close.
“Come for me, sweetheart. Let me feel you.”
Her body goes taut, her back arching as she cries out my name. The pulsing of her around me nearly sends me over the edge, but I hold back, wanting to prolong this moment.
As she comes down from her high, I roll us, pressing her into the mattress. Her legs wrap around my waist, ankles crossing at the small of my back as I begin to thrust—deep, merciless strokes that have her moaning again.
“You’re mine,” I tell her, the words pulled from somewhere primal inside me. “Say it.”
“I’m yours. All yours, Ronan.”
Those words, combined with the perfect heat of her body, shatter my control. I drive into her one final time, burying my face in her neck as I come with an intensity that leaves me breathless. My cock twitches as I deliver my spend and coat her inner walls with my come.
We lie tangled together as the room gradually brightens with Christmas morning. Her fingers trace patterns on my back, her heartbeat slowing beneath my cheek. A euphoric cocktail of chemicals and hormones spirals upwards through my brain.
I press a kiss to the curve of her breast. That was quite a wake-up call.”
She laughs softly. “I wanted to give you your present early.”
“Best present I’ve ever received.” I prop myself up to look at her, taking in her flushed cheeks, her tousled hair, the contentment in her eyes.
I must have saved the world in my past life, because there’s no other explanation why I have this woman here right now.
10
RAYNE
Ican’t stop staring at the clouds outside the window. They look like a fluffy white carpet stretching to the horizon, bathed in golden afternoon light. It’s surreal—like I’m in a dream where everything is both beautiful and impossible.
The flight attendant materializes at my side, bottle poised. “More champagne?”
“Oh, no thanks.” I still have half a glass, forgotten in my hand.
She gives me a professional smile and retreats to wherever flight attendants go on private jets. Because that’s where I am. A private jet. Thirty thousand feet in the air, headed to Italy—a place I’ve only seen in movies and travel magazines I flipped through in doctors’ waiting rooms.
Three days ago, I made an offhand comment about never having left the country. Now I’m on Ronan’s Gulfstream, surrounded by cream leather seats that cost more than my apartment, sipping champagne that probably costs more than my car.
Ronan sits across from me, absorbed in something on his laptop. The sunlight catches his profile, highlighting the sharp angle of his jaw, softened only slightly by his perpetual stubble. He looks completely at home here—another sleek, expensive thing that belongs in the sky.
I shift in my seat, still not used to the cloud-like softness. “Is it okay if I call the hospital to check on Mom?”
He glances up. “Of course, sweetheart. Use the phone by your seat.”
I find the built-in phone and dial the hospital’s number with shaking fingers. Mom looked so happy this morning when we dropped her off and insisted we go on our trip.
The receptionist answers on the third ring.
“Hi, I’m calling about Elena Silva? She was admitted back this morning.”
A pause. “Let me check our system. I’m sorry, we don’t have a patient by that name.”
I hang up and look at Ronan, panic clawing up my throat. “She’s not there. They have no record of her.” My vision blurs. “What if something happened? What if she—”
“Rayne.” Ronan closes his laptop, his voice steady. “Your mother is fine.”
“How do you know? They said—”
“She’s not at County anymore. I told the medical director to transfer her to the City Medical Center as soon as there’s vacancy. I had no idea he managed it so soon.”
I blink. “What?”
“CMC has the best cardiology department in the state. I arranged for her to be under Dr. Gabriel Ellis’ care. He’s the head of the department.”
My brain struggles to catch up. “But…”
“It’s handled. Everything—the transfer, the specialists, the treatment—it’s all taken care of.”
“You can’t just—” I stop, because obviously he can. And he did. “Ronan, that’s ... that must be tens of thousands of dollars.”
He shrugs. “She’ll get the best care there. And you won’t have to worry about bills anymore.”
The weight of what he’s done crashes over me. All those nights I stayed awake, calculating how many extra shifts I’d need to cover the next treatment. All the calls from collection agencies. The second mortgage on my childhood home. The loan from Lucian King that started this whole mess.
Gone. Erased with a phone call.
“I never wanted you to think—” My voice breaks. Tears blur my vision, hot and sudden. “That was always my biggest fear—that you’d think I was just using you. That I didn’t love you for who you…”