Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Something isn’t right.
Her shoulders suddenly stiffen, her eyes go wide, and every ounce of color leaches from her face. There is no universe where my woman should look like this.
What is it, Irish?
“Excuse me,” I murmur as I make my way to her.
Whoever just put that fear on my girl’s face is going to fucking pay.
I move quickly through the crowd, and when I see Connor, I put my hand on his shoulder. “With me.”
“Excuse me,” he mutters, falling in behind me. “What’s up?”
“I’m about to find the fuck out.”
Chapter Twenty
SKYLA
I’m already exhausted, but tonight’s going so well. Everyone seems to be having fun. I know we’ll bring in a lot of money for the foundation, and that’s the most important thing.
I’ve just moved away from a woman whose name I can’t remember when, suddenly, someone’s hand slips across my lower back, caressing me.
Oh God. No. It can’t be.
Ice-cold fear spears through my body.
Before I can fully turn, lips are pressed to the shell of my ear.
“So good to see you, my beautiful, tiny dancer.” He kisses me—fecking kisses me!—and then he’s off, moving through the crowd.
I can’t breathe.
My heart kicks up as I press my lips together, searching the crowd, and then I see him.
Beckett.
His face is murderous as he makes his way through the packed room to me. My feet won’t move. My body won’t move.
But I don’t have to because then, Beck’s here, and his warm hands frame my face as a sob tears from my throat.
“What is it, baby?” He presses his lips to my forehead and then stares me in the eyes. “What happened?”
“He’s here.” Is that rough whisper my voice?
“Who is?” That’s Connor’s voice, but I can’t tear my gaze away from Beckett’s eyes.
“L-The Arsehole.”
Beckett’s grip tightens on me.
“He touched me.” I lick my lips. “And said it was good to see me. Called me tiny dancer. I fecking hate that name.”
“We need to get out of here,” Beck says to Connor, who’s already nodding and motioning to someone.
“I can stay.” I shake my head and take a breath. “Let me collect myself.”
“No, we’re leaving,” Beckett insists. “Connor?”
“Sir, what’s going on?” Miller joins us. He takes one look at me, and his face goes stony.
“Get us back to the hotel,” Beckett says. “And find the fucker who keeps terrorizing my girl so I can have a word with him.”
“Beck.”
“Follow me,” Miller says, and he’s already speaking into his wrist, the way you see in movies. I don’t know why, but that makes me laugh.
“She’s going into shock.” I think that’s Connor’s voice.
“My handbag.”
“I’ve got your bloody handbag,” Connor says. His voice is so growly when he’s angry. “And I’ll handle everything here.”
My skin is crawling, and I shiver. Oh God, he had his bloody hands on me. His mouth. I wish I was numb. I wish this creepy sensation would go the bloody hell away.
“Beck.” I can’t stop saying his name.
“Can you walk?” Beckett asks me as his thumbs move over my cheeks, catching tears that I don’t want anyone else to see.
“Okay.”
“I will carry you out of here if I have to,” Beck says in a low voice, leaning in to press his cheek against my own, “but I don’t want to bring any more attention to this. Can you walk out of this room, Irish?”
I nod, but he grips more tightly.
“Skyla. Can you walk?”
“Yes. I can walk.”
He nods, seemingly satisfied, and takes my hand so firmly in his, I don’t think anything could tear him away from me.
And that’s exactly what I want. To be with him, right next to him, from now on. I wonder if he’d let me just milk the cows with him all day, every day?
That makes me want to laugh again, so I press my lips together and nod at people as we make our way through the crowded ballroom toward a back exit.
Miller leads us to a waiting black SUV and opens the back door for us.
“I’m sorry, miss,” he says, and I stop to look into his eyes.
He’s so … angry.
“It’s not your fault.”
“Yes, it fucking is,” Miller growls by my ear. “It won’t happen again.”
Beck helps me get into the back seat. Since this dress is so tight, I can’t lift my leg high enough to boost myself into the vehicle. Then he’s right next to me, and we’re riding to the hotel. I’m shaking so hard, my teeth chatter, and Beckett slides over so he can hold on to me.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers as I shake.
We’re quiet as a security guard I don’t know drives us, giving status updates into his radio.
“Pulling into the hotel,” he says, but he doesn’t stop at the front entrance.
He takes us into a parking garage and escorts us to a private elevator that leads us to the suite level where we’re staying.