Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 129676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Even as I sprinted, I knew it was no use. I couldn’t outpace a coyote. But I refused to go down without a fight. I gained more speed, their barks and yowls bouncing off the treetops. I pierced through the air, racing faster, faster. So quick it was too late for me to order my legs to stop moving when I realized I was barreling straight toward the edge of a cliff overlooking the Atlantic Ocean and to my own demise.
No. No. NO.
My last thought was Mum. Who would take care of her? Read to her? Brush her hair?
This was where my life ended and hers too. She’d become the state’s problem. Tossed into an institution—maybe back on a plane to England—to spend her remaining days alone.
An agonized scream ripped through my throat. The ground slipped beneath my feet. My legs hovered over air, nothing beneath them to catch me. My body sank, yielding to gravity. I squeezed my eyes shut, claying into stone.
A rough tug yanked me back to land. The coyotes must’ve gotten the collar of my coat. I covered my face in my palms, petrified, before I felt my body soaring through the air, flying. I slammed against a surface. Hot and sweaty and alive. The texture of beastly muscles vibrated between my thighs.
No. Not coyotes.
I was on top of a horse that was galloping forward.
Behind me was my husband, steering the reins skillfully, my body boxed between his huge arms. My back was flush against his torso. I could feel his heart drumming rapidly.
It was the only proof I had he was mortal. Alive.
The beast whirled around abruptly and dashed straight toward the two coyotes that chased me. They scurried in different directions, whimpering their submission. Tate tugged at the reins and straightened his legs forward in the stirrups, mindful not to hurt the coyotes. We rode so fast the wind slapped my face, making it hard for me to draw a breath.
My thoughts swam inside my head.
My husband was a murderer.
But he saved me from certain death.
And he had a chance to run over these coyotes yet left them unharmed.
“Apologies for the bareback. I had no time to saddle.”
Tate’s warm breath caressed the back of my sweaty neck. Each gallop reverberated along my spine. Tears rushed down my cheeks. I was petrified, shaken, and angry.
At him, for everything he was putting me through.
At myself, for not being able to escape him.
Desperate, I tried to elbow his ribs with all my strength, but he easily dodged my elbow, and I nearly lost my balance and fell off the horse.
He bunched the reins in one hand, using the other to grab the back of my neck like I was a feral animal, applying pressure without actually hurting me.
His mouth found the shell of my ear. “I do love a good, hostile foreplay, but you might want to wait until we make it back to my mansion.”
“How did you find me?” I bit out, realizing for the first time that my mouth was full of blood, the tip of my tongue raw. Sometime during the adrenaline rush, I’d bitten my tongue and didn’t even notice.
“I can see in the dark.” There was no sarcasm in his voice.
“Rubbish,” I bristled. “What kind of idiot do you take me for? No one is capable of—”
“A big fucking idiot indeed. It takes a special brand of stupid to run into wild woods in the middle of the night. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s the beginning of Scary Movie.”
“I’ll take any forest creature over a cold-blooded murderer.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he said sardonically. “Anytime.”
Since I’d rather chew my own arm off than say thank you, I kept my mouth shut for the remainder of the journey.
When we arrived back at his mansion, he hopped off the horse and kept me on it as he guided it by the bridle to the stables, not giving me another chance to run away.
Once he put the horse back in his stall, he caught my waist and brought me down to the ground. He led me back to the main entrance by holding my arm captive, steering me in his desired direction. I was his prisoner now.
Inside, Tate turned on all the lights and hiked the thermostat up three degrees. I was hungry and dizzy and in pain. Collapsing on the floor seemed like an attractive option right now.
“You’ll sleep here tonight.” He was the first to break the silence.
“Keep dreaming.” I swiveled toward him with the vigor of a wounded, frightened creature. He may have saved me, but only because he probably thought death would be too lax a punishment for whatever the heck I’d done to him. “I will, however, call 911 and report the murder you’ve committed today.”
“Strange way to show someone gratitude for saving your life.” He strolled over to the kitchen, unperturbed.