Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 122550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
She’d been living in this total dream world. She shook her head and took his hand, letting him help her stand. “I’ll do the clean-up and order dinner. What do you feel like?”
Again, he ran his thumb under her eyes. “You look exhausted, sweetheart. I want you to go upstairs, get ready for bed, then come back down here and rest. Understand?”
She was nodding before she could even think about what he’d said.
Damn it. When he used that tone of voice, she instantly caved. What was wrong with her?
“That’s a good girl. Off you go. Let me worry about everything else.”
14
Fifteen minutes later, she walked back downstairs. She’d quickly showered and washed the smell of smoke off. She hadn’t put on pajamas because there was no way she could wear her pajamas while he looked like a model for a high-end fashion magazine.
The man probably didn’t even own a pair of jeans and he wanted her to get into her highland cow pajamas? With her highland cow slippers?
Yeah. She was already at a disadvantage, considering that most of her clothes were from discount or thrift stores, while his clothes looked tailored to fit him.
There was no way she could be that relaxed with him.
So instead, she’d put on a pleated black skirt and a long-sleeved, emerald-green shirt.
But she didn’t bother to do anything with her hair. There didn’t seem to be much point in trying to look nice for Regent when he seemed to see her as a younger sister. Someone he had to look out for and protect . . . not someone he wanted to bend over the kitchen table and fuck until she no longer knew her own name.
Such a shame.
When she walked into the kitchen, everything looked normal. There was a faint scent of smoke, but the windows were open, so it would hopefully disappear soon. Where had the food and dishes gone?
“I had to throw several things out,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind.”
The doorbell rang, making her startle.
“That’s the food.”
She followed him out to the front door. “Oh, let me get some cash.”
“No need. One of my men went and got dinner.”
They had?
What men?
Jeez, Jilly, you know what sort of men he has.
The thought made her want to hide, but she forced herself to stand her ground, peeking out.
She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it wasn’t the pale-haired man that stood on the stoop. He was dressed in a T-shirt and jeans. He looked so . . . normal.
“Here you are, boss.” The guy held out two bags.
“Good. Thanks.”
The other man nodded, gave her a curious look, and then left.
As soon as the smell of curry hit her, her mouth started salivating. But what was in the other bag? Naan bread?
She followed Regent through the house to the kitchen, where he laid out the food containers. Then, he drew out several packets of batteries from the other bag.
Jilly bit her lip. “I could have bought the batteries.”
“When?”
“Um, tomorrow?” she asked, confused by the question.
“And where did you plan to sleep tonight?”
“Um, here?” What was he getting at?
That cool gaze hit her hard and she gulped, feeling as though she should apologize but unsure what she was supposed to be apologizing for.
“You were going to sleep here with smoke alarms that don’t work?” he asked.
“Well, I’ve slept here just fine for the last few months without smoke alarms. What are the odds that something would happen tonight?”
And that was the wrong thing to say, which she realized as soon as he stepped toward her.
She stepped back.
Danger. Danger.
“I mean, thanks for the batteries for my smoke alarms,” she squeaked out. “I feel so much safer.”
“That’s the correct response. Good girl.”
Yikes. This man. Sometimes, he could be truly terrifying.
Actually, always. He was always terrifying.
“Now, it’s time to eat.”
They settled in at her old table, which needed a piece of cardboard under one leg so it didn’t wobble, and ate curry.
“This wasn’t exactly what I had planned,” she said as she moved her food around the plate.
Jilly was disappointed in herself. How hard was it to cook a roast? And now all that food was wasted simply because she wasn’t capable of focusing on a task for more than five minutes.
Perhaps Margaret was right. She was useless. A crappy librarian and a crappier cook. Lowell used to complain all the time about her lack of skills in the kitchen.
“I’m really sorry about tonight,” she muttered.
“Jilly, look at me.”
She glanced up at him, expecting to find irritation in his eyes. Instead, he simply gave her a gentle, understanding look.
“Just because it’s not how you imagined it going, doesn’t automatically mean that it’s a bad night.”
“You had to get one of your men to bring us dinner. And batteries. You spent most of the night cleaning out my kitchen. I’m supposed to be thanking you, but I created work for you instead.”