Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 174632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
“Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked as he gaped down at her.
He really needed to stop staring at her like that or people would start thinking that he liked her.
She was people.
“You were swaying.”
Oh. Right.
Well, that was because she was exhausted. Not just physically but emotionally as well.
Stop being a cry baby. Put on your big girl knickers, throw out the vase, then get your ass upstairs, make sure there are no monsters in the wardrobe or under the bed, and get into bed with your toy zebra.
She was rocking this adulting stuff.
“There’s blood on the floor of the foyer.”
Maggie turned at Jack’s voice.
“Why is there blood on the floor?” Ian demanded. “What did you do?”
“What makes you think I did anything?” she asked, insulted. “Really, you need to work on these issues of yours.”
“What issues?” he asked.
“There’re so many that I don’t have time to name them. That’s what a therapist is for.”
Ian put his hands on his hips. “Why is there blood on the floor?”
“It’s coming from her,” Jack said grimly. “I think she’s hurt herself.”
Really? Where had the funny, easygoing guy from earlier gone? Why didn’t he make some cheesy remark about how she was dying for him or something like that?
Suddenly, Ian picked her up and the box dropped from her hands to the floor. He held her up in the air with his hands around her waist, her feet dangling in the air.
She gaped down at him. What the heck? Okay, she was a good foot shorter than him, but most people wouldn’t be able to pick her up like this.
Then again, Ian wasn’t like most people. The guy was built like a bear. And had the temperament of one too. Hmm, maybe he just needed something to soften him up.
“How do you feel about honey?” she asked.
“Honey?” He stared up at her.
“No? Salmon? Are you hungry? When I’m hungry, I get grouchy too.”
Her stomach took that moment to growl. Loudly. Reminding her that she hadn’t eaten all day. There had been food at the palace, but she’d been too nervous to eat. No doubt it would have ended up all over her. Or she probably would have spilled it on a couch that likely cost a million pounds and she’d spend her days washing dishes in the palace kitchens from now until eternity.
“Why is your stomach growling?” Ian asked.
She sighed and patted his head. “How have you survived this long without a keeper?”
“It’s her foot that is bleeding. It has a cut on it,” Jack said, grabbing hold of her foot.
“Seems it’s not me that needs a keeper, Little girl.” Ian started walking and Jack let go of her foot.
“Hey! Let me down!” She attempted to wriggle out of Ian’s hold.
He shook her. “Stop moving. You’re going to hurt yourself.”
“This is not cool. This is kidnapping.”
Ian set her down on the chilly countertop in the kitchen. He smiled coldly.
“I don’t think it’s kidnapping when we’re your guards,” Jack said.
“We need to check her foot,” Ian said. “And feed her.”
“My foot is fine and I can feed myself. Hey!” She slipped backward and her head would have hit the granite countertop if Jack didn’t have such quick reflexes. His hand slipped between her head and the island, cushioning the blow.
Ian was holding up her foot. “Fuck. Sorry.”
Uh-huh. Sure he was. “His life would be so much easier if I were unconscious.”
“Yes, it would,” Ian said.
Monkeyballs. She looked up at Jack. “I said that out loud, huh?”
He grinned. “Yep.”
“Great. Totally losing it. Ow! What are you doing to me? Are you trying to make it worse?”
Ian scowled down at her. He was inspecting the cut on her foot. “This is deep. We need Jameson.”
“Ah, no we don’t,” she replied.
She had no clue who Jameson was. But she did not need them. Because all she needed was a cup of tea, a chocolate biscuit, and about twenty hours of sleep.
Jack raised his eyebrows, his lips twitching. She sighed in relief. He was so easy to be around. So happy and friendly. He was like a breath of warm air compared to the rigid chill coming from Ian who was the Arctic.
Freezing and deadly.
“You know who Jameson is?” Jack asked.
“Nope. But I don’t have to know him to know that I don’t need him. Because what I need is to go to bed.”
Humor lit Jack’s face, and as he opened his mouth, she slammed her hand over it.
“Nope. No. That was not an opportunity for you to make some comment about how you want to take me to bed or know a way to help me sleep.”
“What?” Ian snapped. “He wasn’t going to say anything like that.” Grabbing her shoulders, Ian sat her up.
He was always manhandling her.
It was an embarrassment how he couldn’t keep his hands off her.