Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 168121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 841(@200wpm)___ 672(@250wpm)___ 560(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 168121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 841(@200wpm)___ 672(@250wpm)___ 560(@300wpm)
The sexy rumble of his growl lifted her up on tiptoes and into the solidarity of their joining lips. She drew the flavor of his mouth into hers, drinking him in, and whispered against his exhales. “Thank you for doing this.”
Eyes round and thoughtful, he shook his head and stroked his thumb over her jaw. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me, Charlee, but whatever it is melts everything else away. It’s the best feeling in the world.” A quiet seemed to collect around him. He straightened to his full height and his hand in hers stopped shaking. “Tony?”
“We have alternate evacuation plans lined up if riots break out.” Tony positioned herself beside Jay. “And the chartered jet will be ready for our arrival. We’re waiting for your visual signal.”
Jay captured Charlee’s lips in a quick kiss and patted his left shoulder with his right hand.
The sudden formation of bodies boxing them in wound up her nerves to the utmost point of tension. When the forward two bodyguards—Tony called them Vanderschoot and O’Neil—moved to the door, she thought her veins might snap from over-pumping.
He put his mouth at her ear. “Deep breath, baby.” Then it was gone with the push of the door and the flashing of bulbs.
Click. Click. Click.
Vanderschoot, the guard in the lead, held back the mob for O’Neil to exit. In the next heartbeat, the two bodyguards barreled through the throngs in a choreographed attack, each pushing back photographers and carving a path through the crowd.
The vultures bumped into one another. Equipment clanked together. “Watch it. Back up. Back up.”
“Clear.” Tony held the door for Jay.
He released Charlee’s hand, locked his arm around her shoulders, and guided her into the hallway. Edison, Colson, and Nathan brought up the rear.
“Go. Go. Go.” The mobs shuffled with them, squatting to snap pictures and tripping over themselves.
“Jay Mayard. Look over here.”
Click. Click. Flash. Flash.
What kind of hell had she walked into? Paparazzi crammed every inch of the hall. What if the Craigs prowled amongst them? How would the guards spot them? Her heart drummed a frenzied rhythm.
“Is that your girlfriend, Jay? What’s her name? What happened to your ear, miss?”
She cupped her injury and blinked against the assault of blinding lights. Man, oh man, if he dealt with this every time he went out, no wonder he never wanted to leave his hotel room. She pressed closer into the mantle of his body, and his heart knocked against her cheek.
“Give them space. Give them space.” The photographers’ questions never slowed.
The cameras darted in and out of her face. There were so many of them. No way could the bodyguards hold them all back. Remarkably, the photographers didn’t reach out, didn’t try to touch.
She kept her eyes on her Doc Martens, scuffing them slowly along the concrete landing to the stairs. Jay’s Chucks dragged alongside hers.
A photographer shoved another into the wall and shouting interrogations pursued.
At the top of the stairs, she and Jay waited behind the bar of Tony’s outstretched arm while Vanderschoot and O’Neil cleared a passageway. Their eyes swept up and down, passing over the paparazzi as if they weren’t there.
“You’re doing well,” Jay whispered in her ear.
“I don’t know about that. How are you doing?” His smile was small and sad and held her heart hostage in her throat. “Do the paparazzi ever touch you?”
“It’s generally against the law to touch someone without their consent. They’re a nuisance, but they rarely break that rule.” His lips brushed the shell of her ear, and he hugged her closer to his chest. “The fans are the law breakers.”
A reminder that the worst was yet to come. The herd trailing them was mild, relative to the shouts thundering from the parking lot.
“Clear,” one of the guards shouted from below.
Down the stairs and around the landings they went. Tony and Nathan flanked them. Every time their eyes flicked upward, Charlee’s pulse spiked. Edison and Colson kept their positions always a floor behind.
The paparazzi leading the slow parade walked backward, scuffling while snapping pictures, some falling down the stairs and climbing their way back up. Jay ducked his head under his free arm, squinting against the invasive flashing.
She dug into her messenger bag and handed him the sunglasses. The way he hurriedly fumbled them on made her wish she’d never taken them.
The closer they came to the ground, the thicker and louder the crowd grew. The security team tightened their circle and the air clotted with unease.
They stepped off the bottom stair at the front of the building and a chorus of shrill screams rode in on the crisp breeze. Six rigid bodies backed into her and Jay, squeezing them in a tight box. Her breath came out in noisy pants. She couldn’t see a damned thing around the wall of guards.