Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 58442 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58442 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
As she reads, a shiver of hunger touches me. This is all a deal, true, but damn it. I’m a man with hot blood pumping through my veins, and she’s a curvy, beautiful, and charismatic woman.
“Why?” she murmurs.
I lean forward, staring into her eyes. “Because I’m the boss, Aurora. Now–sign.”
She tilts her head with a hint of sass. “Yes… Sir.”
Just like last time, she injects some sarcasm into the word. I don’t care. It still triggers something hot in me. Something hungry. Again, I don’t let it show, just keep staring with hard, unflinching eyes.
She signs, then hands the contract back to me.
Soon, we arrive at the docks. The driver stacks our suitcases next to the small pier and then pulls away. Aurora wraps her arms around herself.
“Are you cold?” I ask.
“I’m fine,” she replies. “I just hope there isn’t another storm. Where is everyone?”
“We’re taking our own private boat,” I tell her, picking up the suitcases and walking down the pier. “Many of the guests like to keep their identities hidden for as long as possible. For the entire Retreat, if they can.”
“So, no one knows what they’ve done on the island?” Aurora says.
“Bingo.”
“What do they do on the island?”
“Whatever we want,” I grunt.
Two boatmen climb from the small vessel onto the pier, dressed all in black with masquerade masks on their faces.
“Are you ready?” I ask Aurora.
She bites her lip, looks down the pier, and looks at the boat. Her indecision is clear. Under her breath, just loud enough for me to hear, she mutters, “I’ve already signed the contract.” Then, louder says, “Let’s go.”
I jump into the boat, glad she can’t see my face. What did I expect her to say? Of course, this is just about the agreement. Don’t be an idiot, Raiden.
I reach onto the pier and grab her hips. She giggles adorably when I lower her onto the boat next to me. She takes a moment to find her feet, slumping against me.
We sit on the bench as one boatman takes off into the dark water, the sky bleak and starless above, the lights of the island faintly glowing through the fog.
We say nothing until thunder rumbles above us. “Great,” Aurora mutters, sounding scared and shuddering. Her shoulder is touching mine, just, and it’s like I can feel her fear.
“Come here, beautiful,” I say, wrapping my arm around her. “I know how much you hate storms.”
For a second, she moves as if she’s going to disentangle herself from the embrace. Then she looks at the deckhand and probably thinks she has to put on a show for them. She sinks against me.
“Thank you.”
I hold her tightly, then lean down and kiss the top of her head. Another shudder courses through her.
“This is nice,” she says, her tone so sweet I have to remind myself it’s all part of the game.
When more thunder rumbles above, she moves closer.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying this.
Soon, we’re approaching the island. It’s close to the dock. Lights ring the perimeter, giving it an eerie, Gothic feel. The estate looms on a small hill.
The boat docks on a small pier, and I climb out, then reach down and lift Aurora out. She laughs in the same delighted, surprised way, as though she’s shocked that I can handle her curves so easily. Other men, lesser men, perhaps they’d shy away from a woman as curvy as her…
I let go of her ample hips and take a step back. What am I thinking?
Her laughter is probably part of the game.
“Let’s say hello to Grandmother,” I say, placing my hand on the small of her back. I led her away from the pier, down a path ringed with fairy lights. “The staff will bring our bags.” I lower my voice. “And remember the game.”
“I remember… it’s just a game.”
“Good,” I grunt.
And it is good. She even convinced me with her laughter and closeness. If she can fool me, even for a second, when I know it’s a game, everyone else should be a breeze.
We walk up a set of stone steps, the fairy lights replaced with flickering torches covered with metal grills, the flames dancing across the rain slicked steps. More thunder rumbles above us. Aurora moves close to me, clutching my arm.
“Good job,” I tell her.
“Oh, thank you, sir,” she says sarcastically, rolling her eyes.
The tip of my manhood aches, as if trying to get my attention. Trying to awaken something I’ve sorely missed, genuine, blazing lust. I do my best to ignore it as the moment is less than ideal.
Grandma, wearing an elegant floor length plum dress of heavy fabric and her usual horned mask, is waiting for us at the top of the steps, sitting next to a roaring fire.
“My boy,” she says, rising from her throne-line seat and approaching us. “You’re the first to arrive.”