Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 159420 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 797(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 531(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159420 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 797(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 531(@300wpm)
My words trail off because suddenly, everything feels heavy. My limbs feel leaden and my head sways on my neck. My eyelids flutter closed, unable to stay open, and the last thing I remember before everything goes black is my masked stalker, my Phantom, tilting his face to the side before he… smells my hair.
PART I
THE HUNT
CHAPTER ONE
Three weeks ago
HE’S WATCHING ME like he wants to eat me instead of his dinner.
Which happens to be a medium-rare steak paired with a merlot. While the dinner looks delicious enough, my focus is on that wine of his. I’m paying very careful attention to when he takes a sip, how big of a sip he’s taking, and how long before that glass is almost empty. Because the more he consumes, the faster things will move. If I’m lucky, I may be able to get out of here before we order dessert. As it is, every single minute I have to sit here and watch him watch me with that beady look in his eyes is a test of my patience.
Damn it.
I should’ve doubled his dose. I don’t know why I hesitated. My date is a big guy. His shoulders are broad and he’s at least a foot taller than me. Not to mention, Wyatt is a cowboy. And fucking cowboys are like the fucking animals they work with all day long. Thickheaded with a hard-to-crack constitution. They don’t get knocked out easily. Subtly, I lean forward in my seat and strain my ears, trying to listen for any signs that my plan might be working. If so, I should be able to hear a low rumble coming from his gut. Unfortunately, all I can hear is the tinkling of expensive cutlery, laughter, and a low buzz of music in this dimly lit, smoke-filled steak house.
Oh, and his voice, asking me, “So your father tells me you’re a freshman in college.”
Abandoning all my investigative efforts, I paste a smile on my face. “Yes. Well, I just finished my freshman year. I’ll be a sophomore come fall.”
I watch him take another sip of his wine before he smiles. “Any exciting plans for the summer?”
“You know, the usual,” I say with a breezy tone.
He leans forward a little, his disgusting eyes shining. “And what’s usual for a college girl like you?”
Somehow I manage to gulp down the bile rising in my throat and reply, “Oh, just relaxing, mostly. Going to the mall with friends and stuff. Hanging out by the pool. God, I can’t wait to put on a bikini and get my tan on.”
I can’t remember the last time I just relaxed or hung out by the pool for my tan, especially during the summer. But he doesn’t need to know that. He’s here for the rich party girl that he thinks I am, and I’m giving it to him like it’s my job. Which it very well might be.
“And I can’t wait to see you in one,” he says, looking me up and down like he’s imagining me in a bikini right now.
Oh my God, please kill me now. It’s bad enough that my pervy date thinks I’m juicier than his steak, and now I’ve gone and made it worse by giving him something to jerk off to later.
Before I can respond to his pervy comment, he murmurs, “You know, you keep watching my drink like you want it for yourself.” He slides it toward me, the red liquid sloshing inside the glass. “Why don’t you take a sip?”
What? That would be a fuck no.
Somehow I’m able to keep the disgust off my face as I decline. “Oh, but I can’t. I’m only nineteen.”
He doesn’t need to know that I took my first sip of alcohol when I was ten. It was my father’s Kentucky bourbon that I stole from his liquor cabinet. As a fuck-you to him for making me go to a party with his business associates. As disgusting as it tasted, I drank a ton of it and then threw up in front of his bedroom door. As a fuck-you, part two. Of course, I hadn’t known what the repercussions would be for going against my father. Not then. Once I found out, I never stood up for myself again and always did what I was told.
I also didn’t know that all those parties and functions were his way of grooming me for the future. For dates like this, which, of course, was set up by my father because Wyatt happens to be the son of my father’s business associate. And when he saw my picture during their business meeting at the ranch and showed his interest, my father offered me up on a platter like he always does. He’s a great businessman, my father, always looking out for his partners’ interests. It’s no surprise he owns the second-biggest ranch in Montana, the Wildfire ranch.