Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
“I suggest you remove your hand from around her neck,” I warn, getting his attention.
“Fuck you!” he barks. “This is between me and the tease.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong.” I stalk over to him and get in his face. “The moment you put your hands on a woman without permission, you made it my business.”
I shove him, grabbing ahold of his lapel, and it forces him to let go of Peyton. “Now, explain to me,” I say, pushing him against the wall, “why Peyton is a tease.”
“Because I took her out on a date and the bitch didn’t even let me feel her up,” he chokes out.
He clearly has no self-preservation because the more he keeps talking, the more he pisses me off, and the deeper he digs his grave.
“I didn’t know you were married!” she hisses. “I had just started, and you asked me out, making it seem like you were trying to welcome me to your crew. I didn’t know you meant for it to be romantic.”
“You know, Dale,” I tell him, slamming him harder against the wall and wrapping my hand around his throat so he can feel what he did to Peyton, “it’s men like you who give guys a bad name. Now, I’m only going to tell you this once. You’re not to be anywhere near Peyton after today, and if I find out you are, I’m going to make sure you never fly a plane again.”
Dale scoffs. “You can’t do that.”
I chuckle. “I can.” I squeeze his throat harder, and he starts to panic as the air from his lungs is cut off. “And I will,” I promise.
I lean in so only he can hear. “Do you have any idea who I am? My name is Dominick Antonov.”
His eyes widen in fear, and I smirk, happy that he knows who I am.
“That’s right,” I whisper. “And whatever you’ve heard about me and my family, I can assure you, the truth is worse.”
I wait until I know he’s about to pass out from the lack of oxygen, and then I release his throat.
“Consider this your only warning.” I step back and grin. “I’m glad we had this chat.”
Then, I turn around and walk toward Peyton. “C’mon, Peaches. Let’s grab something to eat before the flight. You have a little bit of time, right?”
“Uh, yeah.” She nods, allowing me to thread my fingers through hers and guide her out of the room.
When we get a good distance away from that asshole, Peyton looks at me and says, “Did you call me Peaches?”
I stop in my tracks, shocked by her question. “What?”
“You called me Peaches.”
I turn to face her and stare at her for a few seconds. I just threatened a man, and the only thing she clung to was the nickname I’d mistakenly called her.
The term of endearment had just slipped out—but it didn’t surprise me because I’d been thinking about her nonstop since we’d collided on the plane.
I could lie to her, come up with some ridiculous excuse, but I’ve never been one to run from the truth. “When you blush, your cheeks turn a beautiful shade of peach, reminding me of my mom’s favorite flowers,” I say, gliding my knuckles down her cheek. “A glimpse of light in an otherwise dark world.”
Her brows furrow in confusion because she doesn’t know who I am or the world I’m a part of, and I like that. I like her innocence, and I’ll be damned if anyone ruins it—including that piece-of-shit pilot.
“Nobody’s ever given me a nickname before,” she murmurs, her cheeks deepening in color.
“I can assure you, it’s a compliment,” I tell her, taking a small step toward her.
This close, I can smell her sweet floral scent, only adding to her allure.
“Are you hungry?” I ask to change the subject.
“I could eat,” she admits. “I know a good restaurant not too far from our gate,” she says, looking up at me through her lashes. “And I’m almost positive they carry Kingston.” She smiles softly. “My treat,” she adds with a shrug. “I owe you for coming to my rescue back there.”
“You don’t owe me shit,” I tell her, palming her cheek. “And what kind of man would I be if I didn’t buy our meal?”
“One that’s not sexist,” she volleys.
“It’s not about being sexist. I was raised by a man who treats women like inanimate objects. That’ll never be me, but I’m also not going to let a beautiful woman pay for her meal when I’m capable of doing so.”
She nods in understanding.
“And, Peaches …” I lock eyes with her. “I meant what I said. If that asshole comes anywhere near you, I’ll make sure he’s never able to fly again.”
“Mmm, this place seriously makes the best burgers,” Peyton moans after swallowing the last of her food and wiping her mouth. “How’s yours?”