Vengeance (Master’s Protege #1) Read Online Jane Henry

Categories Genre: Dark, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Master's Protege Series by Jane Henry
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Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57854 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
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I roll my eyes at him. “I don’t usually get into a knife fight with intruders, Mr. Master. I get bruises from training and things like paper cuts. Like normal people.”

His eyes gentle as he kneels in front of me again, and I’m momentarily struck by the enormity of this. He’s so huge, even when he kneels, his head nearly comes to my shoulders. But something tells me he isn’t a guy that kneels very often.

“Normal? Violet, you’re anything but normal.”

I like my name on his lips, like spiced honey. I snort out loud to cover the way my heart speeds up. “As if.”

He quirks a brow at me and doesn’t take the bait.

“So let’s hear it.”

“Okay, so I came home and I did inspect the place. Promise. Everywhere. And yes, Mr. Master, like a good girl I checked every room to make sure no one was here, and the coast was clear.”

“Very good. And call me Cain.”

I want to reach to his chin and run my finger along the stubble. Make him look at me. Instead, he’s fumbling through the kit and pulling things out.

“Cain.” I like the feel of his name in my mouth. “You’re named after the world’s first murderer.”

A wry smile ghosts across his lips before he sobers again. “Something my mother never let me forget.”

“It was intentional, then?”

“Yes.” A flicker crosses his gaze before he shutters it again. “Now back to the story, Miss Price.”

I want to hear him say my name, the word like a seductive caress.

“No more Miss Price either, please.”

“Alright, Violet.” Such a small thing, hearing my name from him, but the way he says it sounds like a poem. He lines up gauze, antibacterial wipes, and bandages. “Now. Everything.”

I speak quickly. We need to move. I know more about who might have his sister, and I don’t want to waste any more time.

“After I knew no one was here, I used the bathroom, when I heard a crash.” Those eyes of his are fixed on me with an intensity that I feel straight to my belly. “I came in here to check, but there was no one here. The window was open, and a curtain was kinda blowing with the wind, but the room was empty.”

“Did you open the window?”

“No. I looked out the window and saw no one. Nothing at all. I assumed I’d forgotten to close it and went out to the kitchen.”

He makes a noise that sounds like a growl, but waits for me to continue. For a big, grumpy guy he can be patient when he wants to be.

I give him a curious look. “Wait, how did you know what I liked?”

“Stick with the story, please. You answer my questions first, then I’ll answer yours.” He tears open a gauze pad and gently swipes across my temple. He pulls it away stained in blood. I continue.

“I texted you, and then when I turned around there were irises on my windowsill.”

“That weren’t there before.”

“No.”

The savage cruelty I saw in his eyes when I first met him returns. I draw in a ragged breath. I look into his clear, sapphire eyes that glimmer like ice, the same frigid eyes that pulled the trigger next to a man’s temple today without remorse. He watched that man crumple to the floor without blinking, then called for his team.

It was apparent to me from the moment I met him that fury and power war within him. He’s only played nice for a little while.

Today I saw the real Cain Master.

With military precision, he slides a bandage open, then cradles the back of my head. The whole base of my skull fits easily in his cupped palm. With gentle pressure, he pulls me toward him as he puts the bandage on my cut. My breath catches at how gentle and careful he is, like he knows I’m injured and can’t bear to cause me any more pain.

If only he knew.

I shiver.

His heavy brows draw over his eyes, and his mouth forms a thin, angry line.

“Go on.”

He opens another antiseptic packet and lifts my hand in his. My hand looks so small engulfed in his much larger hands. Mine are bleeding. I don’t remember why. The adrenaline and fear blinded me.

I draw in a shaky breath as he wipes the grit and blood from my hands. It stings, but I don’t let myself flinch. “After I saw the flowers, I put my phone down. I considered calling you. I decided I was going to drive to your place after all, and when I came into my room, someone hit me.”

He lets loose a string of curses.

I want to find the man who attacked me. I want to find him, and I want to kill him. I want him to pay for everything he’s done. So I speed up my story.


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