Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
I tug at my hand. If Cassian Trevino is being tender, it’s because he wants something.
“You literally threatened to leave me in a fucking crypt. I was scared. I’m sure it’s a sensation you’re unfamiliar with, but human beings, those of us with actual feelings, get scared.”
He studies me, gives a little shake of his head. “It was more than that,” he says, ignoring my jab.
I study his eyes. What did he see in me down there? Yes, I was afraid. Terrified. How could he know what memories he triggered? What sensations I thought I’d locked up so tight I’d never have to feel them again.
He can’t. He’s guessing. That’s all. My secret is safe.
“Why did you leave me there so long?” I hear myself ask, my voice like glass. Too breakable. I hate myself for that. For shifting my gaze just slightly away, to his nose, his mouth. Anything but his eyes because they fucking undo me. They make me want to believe him. To believe in him.
Something twitches in his jaw and a beat passes before he answers. “I didn’t intend to. There was an incident.”
I meet his gaze. “What incident?”
He shakes his head. “It’s handled.”
“Oh, well then…”
“I didn’t intend on leaving you down there so long. Believe that.”
“But you did, so I don’t,” I say, watching his big hands wrap around mine. Watching how mine disappear inside his.
“Tell me about this.” He’s still talking about my missing finger. He’s not stupid. And for all I know he’s cut off the fingers of little girls too except I know he hasn’t. I know he wouldn’t. It takes a special kind of man, a true monster, to do that and Cassian may be a villain, but he’s not a monster.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Allegra,” he says as if having read my mind.
I shift my gaze from his hands to his eyes and as much as I try to channel my rage, my rebellion, my hate, the way he’s looking at me, I can’t because I think on some level, some stupid part of my brain wants to believe him. Some stupid part of me wants to have those hands holding me. Wants his arms around me, carrying me so easily, like my weight is nothing. Like he can so easily protect me. Like he wants to protect me.
“I don’t want to go down there again,” I say with as little emotion in my voice as possible, but I hear how I sound, how like that fifteen-year-old girl locked in a room behind a steel door waiting for them to bring back her mother. Waiting in terror.
I look away, willing myself not to cry, not to let him see. I think I should brace myself for some cruel comment, some insult. A power play. But Cassian just keeps looking at me, his eyes so intent on mine that it’s hard to hold his gaze. He must see that too because just as I feel the burn of tears, as the first of them wet my lashes, he straightens to stand.
“I won’t put you down there again. I promise, Allegra,” he says, his tone firm. Not mocking. Not anything. Just a promise made. He wraps the towel around me and pulls me to my feet. “Trust that.”
We’re so close, our hands between us, and I have to crane my neck to look up at him.
I search his eyes. What am I looking for? His soul. I’m searching for his soul because I want to believe him. I want desperately to believe him.
“Trust me, Allegra.”
My mind reminds me, though, that men lie. A lie is so easy to tell. When the men who love you can do terrible things to you, what will your enemies do?
I blink away. I don’t trust him. I can’t.
He clears his throat. “When you’re ready, you’ll tell me what happened to you.”
“I won’t.” I sound like a petulant child, I know.
His hands come to my chin, and he tilts my face up so I’m looking at him. “My rebellious little Allegra. Always geared up to fight. What bastard taught you this is the way to protect yourself?” he asks with a sad half-smile like he expected my response, but he’s also sorry about it. He releases me, steps away, checking his watch. “Let’s get out of here. Pack a few things, whatever you need for one night and one day. We’ll get you a dress for the dinner once we’re there.”
“I hope Jet will like it,” I say, not sure why, because I don’t care about Jet, but often, my mouth works faster than my brain and it feels safest to put Cassian on the other side of this boxing ring.
His eyes narrow as he focuses on brushing a lock of hair behind my ear. I don’t move. I stare up at him trying to read him. It’s impossible, though.