Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
“Good evening, Miss Jewel, Mr. Thatcher,” the man said with a nod of his head as the doors opened for us.
“Good evening,” I replied.
Thatcher’s hand touched my back, making me tense up, and with a nudge, he led me inside.
When I turned around to see the doors closing, I glanced over at him. He was watching me with an amused smirk on his face. He didn’t do that a lot, but when he did, it was mostly directed at me.
“What is it?” I asked, feeling somewhat annoyed.
His right eyebrow lifted ever so slightly as he studied me. Then, the ding, signaling that we’d reached the top floor, went off, and he waved a hand for me to exit first. Demanding any kind of explanation from Thatcher was pointless. I walked out and kept going down the hallway, moving over to the side when I reached the double doors. His addictive scent, along with the warmth of his body standing so close to me, made me lightheaded as he opened the door, then walked inside.
I needed to slap myself and stop getting all messed up in the head around him. I followed him inside the suite, and he made his way over to the bar as my gaze took in the scene in front of me. The dining table had four three-tiered serving trays. The first one was filled with berries and grapes, the next was macarons in an array of colors, the third had lemon crinkle cookies only, and the last had different exotic cheeses and fancy crackers. A bottle of champagne was in a gold bucket of ice at the end with only one flute beside it.
“Help yourself,” he said, breaking the silence, and I swung my gaze over to him as he held a glass of whiskey in his hand. “You have to be starving.”
I was, but this was something one would find at a party. Not in a hotel suite.
“Is someone else coming too?” I asked.
“No,” he replied.
“This is all for us?”
He nodded his head and walked over to the table to take a lime-green-colored macaron and popped it into his mouth. His dark eyes met mine as he chewed.
Did the man have to be sexy even when he ate?
I walked over to stand near the fruit tray and took a handful of the red grapes. “This looks amazing.”
He glanced back at it as if he didn’t find it impressive at all. “Figured you could use an appetizer while we waited for your victory dinner.”
This was his idea of an appetizer? Had he ordered this? Or was it just something that was done after a race? I wanted to ask him all these questions, but I refrained.
“Thank you,” I told him.
He reached for one of the lemon cookies, then closed the distance between us. When he stopped in front of me, he brushed my lips with the edge of it. “Open.”
My lips parted, and I took a bite of the cookie, not taking my eyes off him. Thatcher’s gaze was locked on my mouth as I chewed. The wild, crazy rhythm my heart had decided to race off into made it hard to swallow.
“You’re gonna need to eat more than that, or I’ll feed you until I’m satisfied.”
My entire body felt warm. Blinking, I stared up at him silently and opened for him to place another bite of the cookie inside.
What was I doing? What was he doing?
He licked his bottom lip as he stayed completely locked in on my mouth.
The doorbell startled me, and Thatcher’s eyes lifted to look over my shoulder toward the doors.
“Dinner is here,” he said, then stepped around me and headed in that direction.
I sucked in a deep breath and placed a hand on my heart to calm it down. There were things in life I knew to stay away from. The evil of the world was pretty cut and dry. I did my best to do good, be good, and make a positive mark on the world.
The emotions that Thatcher stirred inside me couldn’t be labeled good. Now that I knew how exciting, tempting, and addictive the darkness could be, I wasn’t sure I would have the strength to stay away.
• Seventeen •
If she had any idea just how well I knew her, she’d be frightened.
Thatcher
Irritated, I looked down at my phone. King was texting me. I’d been enjoying myself, watching Capri eat her baked lobster mac and cheese. Possibly a little too much. A distraction was most likely a good thing.
Did you threaten Evander Brodi?
I picked up my drink and tossed the rest of the bourbon back before replying.
Yes.
Had the pussy ass called King? Why did people think King could handle me? King was aware he had no control over me. There were times I didn’t have control over me.
Because he wanted to hire Capri to ride for Brodi Stables?