Total pages in book: 190
Estimated words: 185785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 929(@200wpm)___ 743(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 185785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 929(@200wpm)___ 743(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
After putting my make-up on, I see myself in the bathroom mirror with my necklace and earrings on and I smile with relief. They have been sitting in that pawn shop for months. I was panicked about getting them back.
A spike of anger tries to penetrate but I evade. I push it off. I don’t need to feel that right now. I don’t need to give Ray any more of my emotion.
Instead, I slip into the dress Killian chose for me to wear tonight and it makes me instantly feel like a princess. I look in the mirror at my reflection. Oh. Correction: a sexy princess.
The bodice is a scoop-neck lace with short sleeves. It’s glittery and translucent, laying over a champagne-colored taffeta A-symmetrical dress with a full skirt that comes to just above the knee in front, scooping just below in back.
It feels amazing.
I slip on the black strappy stilettos I liked the most and fluff my hair out. It has dried curly and needs just a bit of product to tame it. I step into the bathroom and spritz some perfume before transferring from my handbag to a little black patent wristlet pocketbook that I use for nights out. That I used to use when I went places besides work or the supermarket. I’m glad I brought it with me. I only did that because I had some identification in it in my underwear drawer at home. It’s big enough for my phone, keys, bank card, and a few essential cosmetics.
I check myself out in the full-length mirror and I feel good. Really good. I gave myself a shimmery but clear manicure earlier and did my toes in a rose gold polish. Not bad, if I do say so myself.
I step out of the room, carrying my regular work winter coat, which is a simple black peacoat and knowing it really isn’t fancy enough for tonight, but I need something, and my only other option is a ski jacket.
I see him by the door, doing something on his phone. My breath catches in my throat. He’s wearing a black tuxedo and he looks incredibly handsome. He hasn’t shaved in a few days and rugged looks good on him, especially with the tuxedo. His eyes bounce up from his screen and then they narrow for a split second as I approach him.
His lips part and I could swear he’s looking at me like he likes what he sees. But he’s also angry.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
“No.”
My heart sinks. “What’s wrong?”
“I’ll survive. You just stole my breath for a minute. You’re a beautiful little thief.”
I swallow, and not without difficulty.
“You look beautiful, too. I mean… handsome.” I blush.
He smiles big, then crooks his arm. I take it, and we leave.
I swear there’s a frizzle of sexual tension sizzling between us in the elevator going down, though neither of us make eye contact.
What’s happening here, what’s been happening since I’ve been here? It feels dangerous. And exciting. And confusing. I’m not sure I’m emotionally equipped for any of it, but here I go, walking out of the elevator into the lobby instead of the underground parking garage and he grabs my hand, making my heart skip a beat.
He squeezes reassuringly and our eyes meet.
Am I safe with him? It really feels like I am. I feel like I’ve never been safer. And it’s so very strange to feel like this.
A moment later, we’re inside the back of an SUV, driven by a well-dressed man named Stan, who knew my name when he greeted us and introduced himself.
My heart races the SUV we’re in as we speed toward the opening of Numbers.
24
Killian
She looks incredible. The best part, though, isn’t how she looks; it’s how she looked at me tonight.
A man knows when he can catch female attention with his looks, and I know I’ve got that, but it rarely pleases me to see a woman looking at me with lust and appreciation because frankly, when I see a woman eyeing me, my first instinct is usually suspicion. What is her game? What does she want? I’ve always seen it as them noticing me and then immediately scheming on how to go about getting their hooks in. For my money, to be seen on my arm as a status symbol, to use me to get theirs back against someone else.
I know Violet isn’t like that.
I’ve always preferred to do the pursuing and I would bet money she would never be the one to pursue a guy.
I’ve never been truly bitten because I see through people. I see intentions as if it’s a second sight.
Good girls avoid men like me. Naughty girls pursue me and that turns me off. I’ll play. I’ll spend time with them. But I’m not about to get serious with them.