Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 94076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
And the love of his life.
“So, you and Lars…” she says out of the blue.
My eyes dart to hers. “Let me guess, Mya is your best friend too.”
She laughs. “She’s determined to find Lars his happily ever after.”
I think about my encounter with Lars in his bedroom this afternoon.
About his warm lips on my skin.
About the way his touch sent tiny shivers of bliss skating across my skin.
How I was surrendering beneath his warm touch.
“Lars is a good guy. Scary as hell, and I wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of him. But you only need to look at him with Lucy to see how big his heart is.”
I picture Lars with baby Lucy in his powerful inked arms, and heat flares at my core.
“We’re just friends,” I say.
She gives me a warm smile. But her eyes twinkle with knowingness. “I think you and I both know that’s not true.”
I don’t know what it is about Belle, but I have the sudden urge to confide in her. How I feel about Lars. How much I want it to be something more than friends. But why it can’t be.
“Is it that obvious?” I ask.
“Maybe not to others. But I’ve seen how you look at him.”
“Which is how?”
“Exactly how I used to look at Beast when I knew I shouldn’t want him, but I couldn’t help myself.”
Her words linger long after she leaves to put Lucy to bed.
And I sit with them for a while in the soft glow of the library, wishing things were different.
But I don’t have a choice.
Luca has ensured that.
I quickly rise to my feet and cross the room to the bookshelf before I lose my nerve and pull the book from the shelf.
Forgive me, Belle.
And slipping the book into my backpack, I leave the library and disappear out the front door.
CHAPTER 36
Ella
I make it back to the motel just as the sun is setting. The light is low, but as I approach my room, I realize something is wrong. The door is ajar.
Cautiously stepping inside, my stomach tightens when I see Luca standing in the middle of the room.
He swings around to look at me. Hair perfect. Suit immaculate. A cloud of Paco Raban clinging to him.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, scrambling to think of why he would risk blowing my cover to come here. And what possible violence might follow.
A female voice to the left of me makes me jump. “Is that any way to greet your brother?”
I swing around to see Carolina sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. Her long legs crossed. A cigarette between her claws.
“It’s all right, mother.” Luca sniffs as he tugs on the end of each sleeve, diamond and gold cufflinks glinting in the low light. “I’m sure she’s tired after being on her knees all day cleaning.”
“I thought there might be a problem if you’ve come here.” My mind jumps to Lucretia and my heart leaps to my throat. “Is Lucretia okay? Has something happened?”
I can’t hide my panic, and Luca smiles.
“She’s fine.” His smile tightens. “For now.”
I swallow thickly. “Then why are you here? If someone from the clubhouse sees you—”
“And who would see me? Why would anyone from the clubhouse have reason to be here?” His tone is accusatory, and so are his dark eyes. “You’re keeping a low profile like I told you, aren’t you sister?”
“Yes, I am, but there is still a risk. If someone sees you here, there will be questions.”
“Then you’d better hope no one sees me.”
God, I hate this man so much.
Moving away from him, I drop my handbag on the dresser. Luca is here to play games. To get his fix of torturing me.
Carolina is here to watch.
“I’m here for an update,” he says.
“Isn’t that what Thugs One and Two are for?” I ask.
Carolina tsk tsks as she brings a cigarette to her red lips. Her eyes gleam as she waits for her son’s reaction.
She doesn’t have to wait long.
Luca strides across the room to stand right in front of me. I don’t flinch, but it takes everything for me not to. At first, he does nothing but stare at me, those black eyes boring into me like laser beams, his lips thin and tight. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and my stomach twists.
Like the crack of a whip, he grabs my chin and squeezes until I think my jaw is going to shatter. I wince beneath his vice-like grip and feel the pain shoot along my jaw and into my skull. Just when I think I’m going to pass out from the pain, he lets me go, and I fall to the floor, the breath I was holding erupting out of me in a coughing fit.
“Now, what is the update?” he asks, as if he didn’t almost break my face.