Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 169013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 845(@200wpm)___ 676(@250wpm)___ 563(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 845(@200wpm)___ 676(@250wpm)___ 563(@300wpm)
A shivery sensation flying across my flesh and lifting the hairs at the nape of my neck.
That was only a second before I felt the actual breath panted against the same spot.
Terror gripped me, and panic streaked through my veins. My mind spun through every self-defense move I had ever learned.
Only before I could ram my elbow into the offender’s gut, that elbow was encased by a hot, heavy hand, held firm as I was yanked back against a wall of stony muscle.
Fire burned at the contact point, and the air was ripped from my lungs, hurled into the shadows where we were concealed beneath the trees.
The low voice that had tormented me all night rumbled in my ear, “Thought I told you to be a good girl?”
Each word was a blade. A shallow carving against my flesh.
I inhaled a shattered breath. Too bad I was sucking the scent of him down into my heaving lungs.
He smelled like cherries drenched in whiskey.
It was a horribly delicious combination.
“You never told me I couldn’t leave my room.” I snarled it through clenched teeth, my back bowed as I tried to peel my body away from the gravity of his.
“No, I didn’t, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know you’re up to no good.” He cinched down tighter on my elbow, and my heart hammered at my chest.
Fear and something else there was no way I was feeling careened through my senses.
“Let me go.” I yanked my arm, the words coming out a whole lot more like a plea rather than the vicious demand I was going for.
I expected it to be a fight.
To have to wrestle out of his hold.
But the second I said it, his hand was gone.
It sent me lurching forward, and I barely caught myself before I fell to my knees.
I whirled back in his direction.
I shouldn’t have.
I should have remained facing away.
Or better yet, I should have remained locked in the confines of that room upstairs.
I definitely should not have been standing so close to Silas Mercer right then.
Half concealed in the shadows created by the branches of the trees, though silvered moonlight dabbled down through the leaves to illuminate his face.
The man was all sharp angles. Like one of those animations where his jaw and cheeks were drawn with a single, slashed stroke. So defined you could take a ruler to it, and it wouldn’t go out of line.
Brow just as severe.
Too violently beautiful to be real.
Wearing dark jeans and a black shirt, the sinewy muscle that outlined his deadly frame carved in the same severe striations.
But where things got dicey were with his eyes and lips.
That was where the harsh, flat planes came alive.
Expressive and roiling.
Teeth clamped down on his plush bottom lip and the flecks of green in his hazel eyes glowing like he was a beast.
Hunted.
That’s what I’d been.
I bet he knew the second I sneaked out of that room.
His head canted to the side. “Is that what you are, Brinley? Up to no good?”
I searched for the missing oxygen, forcing myself to get it together. I was not about to let this man see me flustered.
I searched around for a good excuse.
“I was looking for something to drink.”
“And a full refrigerator wasn’t enough for you?”
Right.
There was that mini fridge in the closet. You know, stocked full of every drink imaginable. The selection was far better than the last hotel I stayed at.
They should win a medal for being such good hostage hosts.
I tipped up my chin. “I wanted ice.”
A slow, wicked smile crept to Silas’s obscenely handsome face, and he took a measured step forward.
I gulped but held my ground. Keeping my eyes pinned on him as he came to cover me in his shadow.
Energy crackled. Zapped and zipped across my skin.
He was so freaking tall it meant my head was tipped all the way back, and he leaned down even closer.
“You want to know what I think?” The words were gravel.
No, I probably did not want access to this guy’s mind. Instead of telling him so, I narrowed my eyes at him. He seemed to take it as an invitation and dipped in even closer.
Heat rippled from his ink-covered flesh, and his lips were so close that I could feel their movement against mine when he spoke.
“I think you’re looking for something else.”
My pulse scattered, and somehow, I managed to grit out, “And what am I looking for?”
Silas’s big hand was suddenly on the back of my neck, holding me up since the man had me nearly bent in two.
“Trouble.” His eyes blazed, and I realized they were more green than anything else. “Think you’re lookin’ for trouble, Brinley, and I don’t think you have the first clue the kind of trouble you’re already in.”
Confusion pinched the corners of my eyes, and a ball of dread filled the entire cavity of my chest.