Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
I let my hair fall loose to the middle of my back, put on flip-flops, and descend the stairs. I search in the kitchen and in the lounge area, and then in an office situated near the entrance.
There’s no trace of Jonathan.
My feet come to a halt as a dooming thought hits me across the face. Did he…leave me here?
I rush outside, my heart hammering in my chest. The car and Moses are also gone. The sound of the breeze slipping between the tree leaves is the only presence around me.
It’s almost like a ghost island.
A shiver snakes up my body and wraps its meaty fingers around my throat. I instinctively rub my arms to drive away the goosebumps.
Wait, no.
There’s also a faint sound of…waves. I follow the scent of the ocean, legs unsteady, and my heartbeat won’t stop escalating. The idea of being all alone brings back memories of being utterly lost. Though I should be used to being lonely, I’m not. Not really.
Especially not now.
Sure enough, there’s a beach down the cliff. Its shore expands into the horizon, creating a marvellous picturesque scene when combined with the sky. The clear, blue water sparkles under the afternoon sun, but that’s not what causes me to stop and stare.
It’s the man sitting on a chaise longue, a tablet in his hand.
Jonathan is wearing only shorts and a white polo T-shirt, which highlights his tall, muscular frame.
The sun shines on his black hair, which, for once, isn’t styled. It falls across his forehead in a tousled and carefree way. His eyes are covered with black aviators as he scrolls through his tablet with his usual serious expression. His brows are slightly furrowed, jaw set and lips in a line.
I’m so used to those features, to the hardness and ruthlessness in them.
I’m so used to him.
When the hell did I become so used to this man?
The fact that he didn’t leave me here on my own fills me with relief so strong, I nearly topple over from the force of it.
My feet lead me to him of their own volition. The flip-flops get lost in the white sand, so I kick them away and walk barefoot. It’s not hot, but it’s warm enough.
I stand beside his chair, my shadow falling across his face and chest, blocking the sun. Jonathan glances up from his tablet, and just like that, the serious expression slowly withers away.
There’s still that usual harshness, the hardness of the man beneath. However, his features relax and his lips twitch in a heart-stopping smile.
God. I’ll never get enough of his smile. It doesn’t help that he’s so stingy with it.
“You’re up.”
I’m still feeling relieved for finding him here. Add his smile, and I totally can’t find my voice right now, so I nod.
He raises a brow. “You said you didn’t have jet lag.”
“I was tired.”
“Is that so? Did I exhaust you, wild one?”
“A little.”
“A little? We need to take care of that next time so that it’s more than a little.”
“Fine, a lot. Happy now?” I couldn’t control the burning of my cheeks, even if I wanted to.
“Come here.” Even though his eyes are covered with sunglasses, I can almost see the darkening of that grey colour.
“Come where? There’s no room.”
He clutches me by the wrist and pulls me down. I gasp, expecting us both to topple over the chair. Instead, I end up half-lying atop of him, fingers splayed on his T-shirt.
“You were saying? Something about no room?”
For a moment, I’m lost in his sunglasses-covered eyes, in the way they watch me. The weird, yet overwhelming, sensation I felt while staring at our reflection in the mirror during the shower hits me again.
I shut the door on that thought and ask what I came down here for, “Where’s my phone?”
“You don’t need it.”
“I have to make sure Layla and her family are safe.”
“They are. Harris told me they arrived at Birmingham.”
“I want to talk to her myself. At least let me call Harris.”
“There will be no talking to Harris.” He taps a few things on his tablet. “Here, call Layla.”
I grin, taking the tablet from his hand, and dial Layla. I’m surprised it’s saved in his SIM card, even if it is under ‘Black Belt’. “Why do you have Layla’s phone number?”
“She’s an important part of your life,” he says, as if that explains everything.
I try to get into a sitting position, because lying all over Jonathan is distracting as hell, and wait for her to pick up. It rings a few times before she answers.
“This is called stalking, Johnny. We are not going to stay at a hotel you’re paying for. Save your money for charity.”
I stare at him. He wanted to make her and her family stay at a hotel and even called her about it? Why didn’t I know anything about this?