Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 113272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
“Do you know any martial arts? Any self-defence moves?”
“Um, well, no.”
“Do you have a weapon on you?”
“No.” She shifted from foot to foot. She could see where this was going and she didn’t like it.
“Does anyone know where you are?” He moved closer, looming over her.
If he meant to intimidate her, well, he was succeeding. She swallowed heavily.
“They might.”
“Yeah? Who?”
“Mr Johnson. He lives next door to me. Big, buff guy. He’ll come to my rescue if I need him.”
“Is that so?”
“Yep.”
“Good to know. Come on, then.” He gestured with his head for her to follow him and then he started running.
And, okay, he was a fast runner. She was more of a jogger. She did it to escape out of her head rather than to get fit or run marathons like this guy seemed to be capable of.
All too soon, she was exhausted and puffing. It also didn’t help that she hadn’t eaten anything before setting off.
She started to walk, staring at his back. Perhaps he’d just run off and not even notice that she wasn’t behind him.
To her surprise, though, he stilled and turned, watching her.
“You need to work on your cardio fitness,” he stated.
“My cardio fitness is fine,” she said. “You just run like you’re Superman on steroids.”
“Pretty sure Superman’s preferred mode of transport was flying. Perhaps you’re thinking of The Flash.”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. On steroids they’re all super fast. Like you.”
“I was running slowly so you could keep up.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Wait. That was you running slowly?”
“Yes. Like I said, you need to work on your cardio. Do you train much?”
“Um, you’re looking at it.”
“When was the last time you went for a run?” he asked.
Drat.
“That’s a rather personal question, don’t you think?” she huffed as she tried to walk past him.
Unfortunately, he didn’t take the hint that she wasn’t interested in talking and fell into step beside her.
“So it was a while ago. Not only did you set out on a run alone in the dark in a strange area with no one around. But you haven’t run in a long time and could have hurt yourself.”
“Actually, Mr. Know-it-all, I went for a run yesterday.”
And had nearly died. She’d been barely able to move yesterday afternoon. But she figured it was better to get moving today and not let her muscles seize.
Still, she might need another Epsom salt bath tonight.
He just made a low grunting noise. She took that as him giving in because he was wrong.
She started jogging again, hoping he’d take the hint and go away. But he just . . . walked beside her.
Yep, that’s right.
He could easily keep up with her walking while she tried to run.
Humiliating?
Yes. Absolutely.
But did she stop running?
Also yes. Because she was exhausted.
“You really don’t have to follow me home,” she said, tripping.
He quickly grasped hold of her arm to stop her falling.
“Oh, thanks,” she said, breathlessly as he removed his hand. “There must have been a rock or something.”
He glanced back. “There was nothing. You tripped over air.”
“I did not.”
“Yes, you did.”
“It’s not polite to argue with someone over why they tripped,” she said huffily.
His eyebrow rose. “Is that an etiquette rule?”
“Have you taken etiquette lessons?”
He snorted. “No.”
“Then yes, it is. Now, please leave me alone.”
“No.”
Urgh. He was so frustrating!
“I said please.”
“And I said no. I need to make sure you get there safely.”
“Why do you care? Aren’t I just a nuisance?” she asked.
“Hmm, you’re definitely that.”
This man.
She had the very undignified urge to stomp her foot.
“There are people around now.” Well, a few cars had driven past and she was fairly certain that a number of people had been staring at them in fascination.
Nothing to see here, folks.
Just the ex-Governor’s daughter trying to go for a run while a hulking big FBI agent insults her running, her fitness, and her ability to take care of herself.
“I don’t trust them.” He eyed the gray car driving past suspiciously.
“Why? The people here seem nice.”
“Don’t be deceived. Just because someone seems one way, doesn’t mean that’s how they are at home.”
“Oh yeah, I know that. Everyone who met my father thought he was a good man. They all said how tragic it was that his wife had died so young, leaving him a single father. And what an amazing job he’d done raising me.” She snorted. “That man didn’t raise me. I spent all my time at boarding school. The only times I left were when he wanted me home for a reason or Pop-Pop came and got me. If it wasn’t for Pop-Pop I probably would have spent every Christmas there.”
He glanced down at her and then nodded. “My father was good at putting on a false front too. Everyone thought he was wonderful, raising ten boys on his own. When in reality he was an abusive drunk.”