Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 156728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 784(@200wpm)___ 627(@250wpm)___ 522(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 784(@200wpm)___ 627(@250wpm)___ 522(@300wpm)
“Don’t talk.” His voice stayed low, steady, like a hand on the back of her neck. “Listen to me.”
She shook her head hard, frantic, trying to gulp a breath that wouldn’t come.
“No, don’t tilt your head back. Just…sit still. Calm.”
She was anything but calm.
A thin, ugly sound slipped from her throat—sharp, whistling.
His eyes flicked over her face and then away. Her stare rose as the man behind him stepped forward.
“I’ll call for a medic.”
“Give her space,” Jack said, an edge of warning in his voice.
“I am calling for help,” the Russian giant said, pulling out a phone.
Her gaze snapped to Jack’s, wild and terrified. His thumb pressed a small, grounding circle against her shoulder. “There you are. Nice and slow.”
She drew in another long breath. It filled her dry lungs like rain after a drought.
“Not too much. Small is best.”
She coughed. Her raw throat a fist of rusty razorblades. Tears spilled, furious and involuntary from her eyes.
He pulled her onto his lap and rubbed her back.
She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking.
He pulled her hand to his chest. “Like this.” She stared up at him as he breathed slowly in and out.
She mimicked each inhale, barely able to pull anything in.
“That’s it.” He kept his breathing slow on purpose, loud enough for her to mirror. “Match me. In… and out. Not deep. Steady.”
She tried. The inhale snagged, but the exhale came—ragged, real.
“Yes. Again.” He nodded as if she nailed something impossible. “In. Out.”
Her fingers dug into his chest, desperately afraid he might abandon her. She focused on his breathing. His steady heartbeat.
Another strangled inhale.
His jaw flexed with controlled anger.
“Doctor is on the way.”
She thought of Dr. Tannhäuser and shook her head, her breath rickety and painful but steady now.
Her hand fisted in his shirt, her face pinched as she shook her head.
“Be still.” He looked into her eyes and whispered, “They’re just going to examine you.”
“No…” she rasped, the two letters scraping like glass over her larynx. “Doc…tors.”
He scowled, then looked back at Hunter. “She doesn’t want a doctor.”
“You think I care what she wants?” the Russian barked.
His eyes moved quickly. Calculating. She didn’t know who the Russian was, but he seemed to hold authority here. “She’s mine,” Jack finally said, the claim final. “I captured her. Unless she safewords, she stays with me.”
“The rules state no one trespasses beyond this point.”
“And she didn’t.” He met Hunter’s stare without flinching. “I hunted her, claimed her, and I’m taking her back to my room. We’re done here.”
The grizzly Russian moved forward with surprising dexterity. He crouched in front of her, and she turned away.
“Eyes on me,” he snapped. “Can you talk?” When she nodded, he growled, “Show me. Say your name or timber. Your choice. Say nothing, and off with doctor you go. Game over.”
Her tongue pressed to the back of her teeth, timber resting on the tip of her tongue. But there couldn’t be more than a couple of hours left until dawn. She needed to stay, needed to find her locket.
Sucking in a long, scraping breath, she wheezed, “My… name… is…” She coughed up wet fire. “Dai—sy.”
The Russian’s black eyes narrowed on Jack. “This is last exception I make for you, comrade. We understand each other, yes?”
“Perfectly.”
“Get her out of this wing.”
As soon as the other man disappeared around the corner, Jack glared at her. “You can use your safeword.”
She stared at him for a long moment, wondering which traumatic event of the evening pushed her over the edge. She tilted her head with a barely perceptible shake, letting him know she wouldn’t give up. Or maybe she had, because she technically just surrendered herself to him.
Something flashed in his grey eyes. A promise? A threat? She didn’t know.
He lifted her in one fluid motion.
“I…can walk,” she rasped.
“Not a chance.” He carried her down the hall, past the stairs that led to the ballroom below, past the alcoves where bodies fucked, and moans collapsed into sobs. His swift, long strides didn’t stop until they reached his room. His bed.
He laid her down with infinite care but looked at her with utter annoyance. “Don’t move.”
A moment later, the lock clicked. This time, the key slid into his pocket.
She swallowed and winced. He saw, and his glare hardened another degree.
Catching her hand, he pushed up her sleeve. She tugged back her arm—
“Do not.” His voice was a hard command that promised consequences she didn’t want to discover.
He turned her wrist, examining the area where her arm had blistered. It could have been worse. Just some singed hair and a small burn.
He sighed as if deeply inconvenienced. “Stay.”
“I’m not a dog,” she rasped, throat still ravaged.
“I’m aware. Dogs obey.” His gaze lifted to something on the wall—the brass bear she’d noticed earlier, its eyes fixed on the bed. On her.
Without a word, he crossed the room in a few swift strides. Black tape dangled loose from the fixture, and he pressed it back over the bear’s eyes, sealing them shut with deliberate care.