Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 32532 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 163(@200wpm)___ 130(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32532 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 163(@200wpm)___ 130(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
But with Mira, it was the opposite.
She made him learn new things about himself.
Her clumsiness in the kitchen—spectacular, truly, involving at least one small fire and the creative destruction of three separate pans—made him realize he enjoyed cooking. It was remarkably close to how he felt when building explosives from scratch, only this time, the things he made in his hand didn’t take but gave life instead.
Her delight in his rooftop garden, on the other hand, revealed the opposite truth. She would disappear up there for hours, returning with dirt under her fingernails and leaves in her hair, babbling happily about tomato varieties and herb propagation. Zacharie listened to every word. He also quietly resolved to hire a gardener, because as much as he loved watching her joy, he would rather not deal with clumps of soil if given the choice.
And in all the years he had possessed a massive fortune, it was only with her that he found himself enjoying it.
He bought things specifically designed to make her react—whether in pleasure or shock or that particular combination of both that made her sputter adorably.
The 24-karat gold mini shovel was a particular triumph.
He presented it to her on day four, wrapped in a velvet box like jewelry, and watched her face cycle through confusion, recognition, disbelief, and finally a kind of helpless horror that made him want to kiss her senseless.
“Zacharie.” Her voice was strangled. “This is...this is solid gold.”
“You mentioned needing better tools for the garden.”
“I meant a trowel! From the hardware store! That costs twelve dollars!”
He said nothing. Simply waited.
She stared at the shovel. Stared at him. Stared at the shovel again.
“Can you...” She bit her lip, visibly gathering courage. “Can you return it? Get a refund? Please?”
Her discomfort was adorable, and he finally relented. “There is nothing to feel guilty about. I bought this from a charity auction. The money was well spent.”
Her shoulders sagged with relief. “Oh thank good—” She stopped speaking when she noticed Zacharie eyeing the row of potted plants she had just finished watering.
“They’re, um, lovely, right?” she asked nervously.
“Seeing them reminded me of something...” Zacharie’s tone was musing. “I think I saw a couple of solid-gold pots also being auctioned for charity. Let me call my assistant—”
“Please don’t!”
Zacharie only laughed as she tried jumping and grabbing his phone, with Mira following his lead as he walked backwards until—
Perfect.
As soon as they were near enough the sofa facing the garden, he grabbed her by the waist and she fell on top of him with a gasp.
“Zach—”
He pulled her close for a kiss, and for that day at least, all thoughts of solid gold gardening were temporarily forgotten.
MORE DAYS PASSED, AND Mira continued to turn his world upside down just by being herself.
Planning for the long-term was simply not something people in his line of work were inclined to do. It was a depressing and pointless exercise, considering how they risked their lives almost daily. But even if he had indulged in such fantasies, never would he have envisioned the life he now lived.
The more time he spent with her, the more he hungered for her, and it was the kind of hunger that disturbed because it went beyond the physical.
They had been together for about a week now, and the fact that he had yet to claim her fully was something even he could not explain.
It was not that he didn’t want her.
He did.
Extremely.
To the point that he took cold showers several times a day, emerging with his jaw clenched and his body still thrumming with unsatisfied need.
But for some reason, the more he needed her, the more he didn’t want to take her. There was something his body, heart, and soul were all waiting for.
Something he wasn’t yet ready to put into words.
Because she was disturbing him more and more.
The way it was so effortlessly easy for her to make him laugh was disturbing—actual laughter, the kind he hadn’t produced in years, startled out of him by her ridiculous observations and terrible puns and the sheer absurdity of her attempts at cooking.
The way she made him say and do things out of character was disturbing—the incessant craving for her company, when he used to find peace in solitude. The impulse to reach for her hand whenever she was near. The hollow feeling in his chest when she left a room, even temporarily.
But most disturbing of all was how she made him forget that he was weak.
And that was a dangerous thing to happen now of all times, especially with the email landing in his inbox. He had asked his contacts to look into Moates, with Zacharie’s instincts warning him that it was only a matter of time before the other man made another attempt, this time against Mira.
SUBJECT: MOATES, BRAXTON - Priority Threat Assessment