Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
For a while, I just stand there and watch him, drinking in the sight. He looks so innocent, so vulnerable. My stomach clenches with anxiety as I wonder what’s going to happen.
Dante isn’t playing open cards with me. He’s not here only to make sure I sign over my inheritance. It would’ve been easier to ensure I never claim my part by simply killing me. He’s not here for me either. Why would he be? I wasn’t enough before. No, being enough wasn’t even in the equation because I was nothing to him. But Noah may change everything, and I want to know what Dante’s game is. I want to know what his plans are for my baby, and I want to know now.
The doorbell rings. I put my ear against the door, making out men’s voices. The deep one belongs to Dante. Something clinks and rattles. After a moment, a door shuts, and then silence returns.
Steeling myself with determination, I walk through the quiet suite that smells of coffee, bacon, and eggs.
Dante sits on the sofa in the lounge, typing on his phone. A trolley set with a spread of dome-covered dishes stands in front of the sliding doors, which explains the appetizing aromas in the space.
He looks up when I enter, perusing me like a strategist taking stock of a rival. “Where were you?”
“Checking on Noah.”
He nods with quiet acceptance and moves his gaze over me. “Sleep well?”
I walk over and stop in front of him. “You?” I cross my arms and arch a brow.
At least he didn’t try to touch me. I suppose that’s something. He wasn’t in the bedroom when I came out of the bathroom after my shower. Spitefully, I’d taken the bed, assuming he’d sleep on the sofa. I didn’t even hear him get in next to me. I slept like a log, which I never do. Since being on the run, I sleep with one eye open.
Wait a minute.
I narrow my eyes. “What did you put in the tea?”
“Just something to relax you.”
I drop my hands and pin my arms to my sides. “You spiked my fucking tea?”
He doesn’t show a stitch of remorse for drugging me. “You looked like you needed it.”
“Please.” I’m seething. “Don’t pretend you did me a favor.”
“I won’t deny that it helped not having to worry about you getting up in the night and unlocking the connecting bathroom door in Noah’s room to let Jasper out. I’ve been up for twenty-four hours straight when I got here yesterday. I can assure you, I needed the shut eye.”
I lay the sarcasm on thick. “Well, I’m glad you caught up with your beauty sleep.”
“You may find it hard to believe, but I also wanted to spare you any discomfort. After the way we fucked, I’m sure you felt it.”
My cheeks heat at the reminder of what I did.
He drops his gaze to the crotch of my jeans. “Sore?” He cuts a slow path over me with his eyes until he meets mine again. “I can call down for aspirin.”
I want to slap him. There’s no way I’m telling him that I’m so bruised inside it feels as if I’ve been pummeled with a ten-pound hammer. “My bad for drinking that tea. You’d think when it comes to you, I would’ve learned my lesson.”
For a tiny moment, there’s that spark of guilt in his eyes again, but then he schools his features. “I ordered breakfast. You didn’t eat much last night. You must be hungry.”
Not sure I’ll be able to control the urge to plant a fist on his jaw, I cross my arms again. “Where’s Jazz?”
“In her room.”
“Let her out.”
He smiles. “I can guarantee you she’s still sleeping.”
I hate that he knows her so well, that he remembers. He doesn’t deserve those memories or the intimate details of my life and my friends I shared with him. “Under the circumstances? I don’t think so.”
“I’ll let her out soon enough.” He glances at his watch. “It’s barely six.”
“Good to know. It was difficult to tell the time without my phone.”
He gets up, pockets his phone, and goes to the trolley to dish up a plate of food that he carries to me.
I look at the bacon, scrambled eggs, and toast on the plate. “No, thanks. Lesson learned.”
“You saw me preparing the plate. I didn’t sneak anything into your food.”
“Not a chance I’ll take again.”
“Go ahead then.” He puts the plate on the coffee table. “Dish up for yourself.”
“I’ll eat if I’ve cooked the food.”
“Jesus, Tatiana. Do you think I’d pay the hotel chef to drug your breakfast?”
Stubbornly, I remain quiet.
He scrubs a hand over his jaw. “How about I take a bite of everything? Will that convince you?”
“As enticing as you may find the idea, I have no intention of exchanging germs with you.”