Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 84635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
It was hard not to notice her sapphire blue eyes and the thick waves of midnight black hair which fell between her shoulder blades.
Despite her tearstained cheeks, she had looked pretty in a forlorn way, standing there far off to the side of the gravesite, away from the crowd, in her off-the-rack black cocktail dress and matching ballet flats.
The problem was, she was nothing like my brother’s usual type—bleached, Botoxed women assembled at the sharp end of a scalpel. This woman in my arms was all wrong...but in the right ways.
Her soft breasts pressed against my chest through her thin white T-shirt, perfectly formed, just large enough to fill a man’s hand. My hand.
Her lips were a cherry-stained pink, the top one shaped like a Cupid’s bow over the fuller bottom one.
She wasn’t my type, either. I usually preferred them to be more high-maintenance-chic, where the gold glint of a trophy was obvious with every sway of their hips.
At least, until this moment.
Madison’s mouth opened on a gasp. I knew it was from the unexpected impact of my body blocking her flight, but my deviant mind thought of other, more pleasurable reasons.
Her eyes filled with tears. “Let me go.”
“No.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because I can...and because someone has to pay for what happened.”
The sheen of tears made her eyes sparkle. How had I missed that the day of the funeral?
She snatched at the lapels of my suit, crushing the expensive silk fabric in her fists, the loose handcuff bracelet swinging. “Please. I’m sorry about your brother, but I swear to God, I wasn’t the one driving. I didn’t kill him.”
I locked eyes with the three police officers now standing sheepishly behind her.
With only my glance, they obeyed and shifted a few steps away.
I leaned in close and whispered in her ear, “Are you really so naïve as to think the truth matters?”
She jerked back as if I had struck her, twisting her shoulders as she pushed against my chest.
I subdued her brief struggle. Pulling her close, I forced her flush against my body and inhaled the sweet vanilla scent of her shampoo. My cock stirred.
Her gaze widened. Whether it was from my words or from the press of my hardening shaft against her stomach, I didn’t know. If she were smart, it would be from fear.
She raised her right arm and slapped me. “You’re a fucking monster.”
Her hand left a sharp sting, and a hint of blood danced over my tongue.
The police officers stepped forward, palming the handles of their guns.
A quick quelling glance from me kept them at bay.
Returning my gaze to Madison, I issued them an order. “Stand down. I’ll call for you when I’m ready for you to take her away.”
The officers nodded, turning their backs and heading to the front of the store. Giving us complete privacy.
Releasing her, I stroked my jaw.
There wasn’t a single person in my life who would have had the balls to slap me like this slip of a woman just had. The corner of my mouth lifted. “Monster? I’ve been called worse.”
The handcuffs around her left wrist rattled when she raised her arm to jab me in the chest. “You won’t get away with this. There is a video. It will prove I’m innocent.”
I tilted my head to the side.
Indignation and fear gave her cheeks a charming flush, which only highlighted her pale, creamy skin.
My gaze narrowed. “Will it?”
“Yes, it will. I’ll tell everyone what I know.”
I ran the backs of my knuckles over her cheek, relishing the warmth of her skin. “And not one person in this town will listen to you. Sorry, babygirl, haven’t you learned you cannot win against a Worthington? There is no point in fighting. I own this town, and that means I own you.”
Her brow furrowed as she cast her gaze downward, but not before I observed something shuttered in her eyes. As if a shadowed nightmare had crept into the present to block the light. I knew soul-crippling pain when I saw it. I should. I glimpsed it every morning in the mirror.
Someone had hurt her. Badly.
My brother perhaps. I knew he’d never played fair…because neither did I.
For one brief, unwelcome moment, I saw myself clearly—not as a man protecting his family’s reputation, but as a man destroying a woman who had done nothing wrong.
The thought lasted exactly as long as I allowed it to.
I was a Worthington. Worthingtons didn’t flinch and they didn’t second-guess. My father had taught me that before I was old enough to understand what it cost. By the time I did, it was too late to be anyone else.
She stepped back, breaking our connection. “I’m not your babygirl.”
I grabbed her by the chin, forcing her head back. “I’ll call you whatever I damn well please. Your life is in my hands now.”