Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 107(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 107(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
The angel’s eyes flit side to side, and the second they meet mine, there’s a jolt in my chest. Those bright ocean eyes consume me, and the tinge of discomfort mixing with the surprise in her expression tips me over the edge. My feet are moving, long strides that eat up the distance between us and draw the other man’s attention to me. I ignore him completely, my focus entirely on her.
She might not know it yet, but every instinct I possess screams that she’s mine. And if there’s one thing I’ll always do, it’s take care of what’s mine.
2
DELANEY
The school bell rings, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job, truly, but damn am I tired. Not just from teaching a classroom of hyper four and five-year-old kids all day but from the stress of trying to make ends meet. Between rent and bills for my tiny studio, the bills from my grandmother’s retirement home, and my brother’s student accommodation charges that I promised him I’d cover so he could find time to go to the classes we’re paying tuition for, I’m so taut with stress I think I might snap.
I shove the thoughts out of my mind and plaster on a smile as I help a little girl into her jacket and double check everyone’s got their bags. We head out to the playground, where the students’ parents and caretakers will be waiting for them.
The afternoon is bright and warm. The kids rush out to find their people, and I hover by the door, supervising the chaos while I fiddle with the lanyard around my neck.
“Miss Graeme, right? The new kindergarten teacher? My son loves you!” a loud male voice says, startling me.
I blink, turning to find a tall, tanned man grinning at me. I suppose someone might find his deep brown eyes and wide smile attractive, but all I feel is alarm. He’s standing way too close to me for comfort.
“Yes, I’m Miss Graeme. That’s very nice of your son,” I say, aiming my tone for kind and professional. I take a small step back, hoping the move is subtle enough that it won’t offend him. I only just qualified and got lucky as hell landing this job at a well-known private school in the city, and I cannot afford to lose my position because of an offended parent.
“Tell me, what’s a pretty young thing like you doing working as a teacher and not a model?” the guy flirts, his eyebrows raising as he leers at me. Completely ignoring the fact I stepped away, he leans in, his probably very expensive aftershave choking me with how thick he’s slapped it on.
I try to laugh, but it comes out all screechy and wrong. I swallow thickly, taking yet another step away—a larger one this time—trying to breathe fresh air that doesn’t taste like thousand-dollar chemicals.
“Uh, just got a passion for helping teach the next generation, I suppose,” I blabber, desperately trying to steer this conversation back into appropriate territory. The man’s eyes rove over my body as though he’s trying to see through the pink blouse and knee-length skirt I’m wearing. My skin crawls, and a brief flash of panic sears through me when he steps closer, once again blatantly ignoring my attempts at space.
How the hell do I get away from this man without pissing him off? I look around, eyes darting wildly as though someone will come to rescue me. A pair of dark green eyes ensnare me, heat rushing through me and chasing away the slimy feeling of the other man’s attention. The green-eyed stranger is tall and muscular, biceps straining against his navy blue suit jacket as he crosses his arms over his chest. A glittery pink child’s backpack is perched on his shoulder, but the accessory doesn’t dull the dark intensity in his stare.
Oh my God, who is this man?
There’s a weird, warm feeling beneath my ribs that I’ve never felt before, like there’s an invisible tether yanking me towards him. I can’t look away, especially not when he starts taking long strides in my direction.
His gaze goes ice cold as his eyes flick from me to the parent, his lips setting in a grim line. His sharp jawline is accentuated by a short, well-kept beard, and his hair is perfectly styled in a way that somehow manages to look effortless. He glances down at my lanyard, then back up to meet my gaze, utterly ignoring the other man who frankly looks appalled at being interrupted. It’s incredibly satisfying—not that I’ll admit it.
“Ah, the new teacher,” my rescuer says, his voice deep and rich. He dips his head, lowering his voice so that the other man can’t hear. “Walk this way with me, let him think I’ve got something critically important to discuss with you.”