Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 37748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
“I need a hospital,” the one who was shot is saying, gripping his arm and making gagging noises. His accent is also British. “I’m not getting paid enough for this shit. You said this was an easy gig.”
“Leave my wife the fuck alone,” Ramses says, then turns to me. “Put your dress back on, baby. Do it now.”
I nod, barely able to comprehend what’s going on as I pick up my dress and start to pull it over my head.
The British Russian throws his hands up toward Ramses. “This was your setup, man. Your plans.”
“Yeah, well the plans have changed.” Ramses finally lets the man in his grip go, and he collapses to the floor, struggling for every heaving breath. “Get your guys, throw me the keys and get out. And count yourselves lucky I don’t cut out your eyes for looking at her like that. I told you not one inch of her skin was to be hurt. Or exposed.”
“Whatever.” The big guy snarls the word, reaching into his pocket and throwing a key at Ramses. It hits his chest, bounces off, and clatters against the floor. He grabs the guy struggling for breath and helps him to his feet, and the three of them make for the exit. Then he turns. “No refunds. And you’ll be getting an extra bill for injuries, too. Fucking psycho.”
As soon as they’re gone, I run to Ramses, throwing my arms around him. I don’t know what’s going on, but I need my husband. He winces but pulls me in tight to him.
“My ribs are bruised, baby. Can you unchain me? The key is there.”
I nod, retrieving the key from the floor and unlocking a padlock that’s holding the chain in place. Ramses sighs as he comes free, and I help him down to sit on the floor.
“What’s going on?” I ask, wiping tears from my eyes. “What was all that?”
He glances my way with a serious expression, then grunts a laugh. “Your anniversary present.”
“What?”
“They’re special forces guys. Well, ex special forces. SAS, I think. They do these kidnapping experiences, set up the whole thing so that billionaires can feel like action heroes.”
“Wait, this was all a setup?” I meet his eyes, still sniffling. “Wait, Simon?”
“He’s fine. He was in on it.”
“And this?” I poke him in the ribs, eliciting a sharp intake of breath. A wry grin spreads over my lips.
“I paid extra for them to make it as real as possible,” he says. “They didn’t want to injure me, but I insisted.”
I laugh. The adrenaline is still heavy in my veins, my limbs shaking with it. “So what happened, you lose your nerve?”
“I thought I could handle it, but I couldn’t. Nobody looks at my wife like that except me. When you lifted your dress, baby. I lost it.”
I chuckle, barely able to contain myself. “Best anniversary ever,” I mutter. “Kidnapped, forced to strip at gunpoint, and then I get to watch my dumbass husband scare the shit out of a bunch of SAS guys. How will you top that next year?”
He shakes his head. “Next year we’re going to fucking Disney World. Or a dude ranch.”
“It was perfect,” I tell him, smiling as I wipe away the last of my mascara-stained tears. “You’re perfect. Doing all this for me. I would have done it, you know? To save your life, I would have stripped and performed. I’m a pretty good performer.”
My hand slides down over his crotch, and I feel his bulge grow at my touch. I massage gently.
“Are you too bruised to play?”
He shakes his head. “For you, daughter-wife, I’d walk over hot coals. Now get that fucking dress off and open wide, Daddy’s got a special anniversary gift just for you.”