Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
The man’s jaw spasms as our gazes collide. My knees wobble when I’m subjected to his furious glare, but I can’t help but admire the way sunlight highlights his face and how his expression shifts between concern and frustration the longer we undertake an intense stare-down.
His beard gives him a rugged appearance. Yet his piercing eyes and prominent brows create a captivating facial structure that commands attention even in tense moments.
After bridging the gap my shove created with one step, he raises his hands in a placating gesture. I don’t want to lose any leverage, so I jab my finger into his chest firm enough to shove him back three places.
He smirks, amused, but his voice still displays agitation. “What’s your problem?”
“My problem?” I cock a brow and cross my arms over my chest. He glances at my cleavage, then returns his eyes to my face. I see the glimmer my clients get before spending their last dollar on a private dance. He likes what he sees, but that changes nothing. “She doesn’t want to go with you. Can’t you see that? She’s terrified.”
When I wave my hand at the little girl watching our exchange with shiny but tear-free cheeks, he opens his mouth, ready to speak.
I cut him off. “No. You don’t get to talk right now. She’s crying and clinging to the doorframe like her life depends on it, yet you’re more worried about arguing with me than helping her.”
“I—”
I shove my hand in his face before crouching next to the girl. Looking into her tear-streaked eyes eases my anger. She’s adorable, with dark hair, flawless skin, and two perfectly placed dimples. Her dress is designer and her shoes shine brightly in the afternoon sun, but she still appears vulnerable.
“Hi there.” Despite the daggers piercing my skull, I muster a friendly smile. “Are you okay?”
The wetness in her dark eyes wobbles as she shakes her head.
As I scoot closer, ready to protect her with my body, I crane my neck and glare at the man scalding me without words. “Do you know him? Is he your father?” Again, the stranger tries to reply. Again, I cut him off. “I wasn’t talking to you. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. That wasn’t my intention. I was simply returning your undetonated missiles while pondering why Armani-clad brutes always make communication their last resort.”
He frowns, his jaw tightening. “Look, I—”
Ignoring him, I refocus on the girl. Even with a new spark of tenacity brightening her nearly black eyes, she’s still trembling. “Do you feel safe with him? It’s okay if you don’t. You won’t get in trouble for telling me. I just want to help.”
Although hesitant, she reiterates her refusal with a sheepish headshake.
“Someone call the police,” I say loudly, hopeful that one of the many people around us will listen. “This little girl needs help.”
People stare, and a few eyeball me like I’m crazy, but no one moves. Even those recording the incident don’t use their phones for their intended purpose. They keep recording, unfazed that a child is scared.
Disgusted by society’s ignorance of abuse, I take the girl’s hand and rush toward the busier part of Palermo. Surely someone there will be more willing to help.
I barely get two feet away before the man blocks my path. He’s brooding and intimidating yet so undeniably handsome that I forget the first two points after one glance at his panty-wetting face.
If there weren’t a child present, I’d be tempted to use the skills I’ve picked up over the past two years to distract him from his anger. That’s how fast his handsome face speeds up my heart. It foolishly makes me believe I’m invincible.
Even his thick timbre is more riveting than scary. “You’re making a mistake.”
Blonde locks slap my red cheeks as I shake my head. “How can helping a distressed child be a mistake? She’s scared of you, not me, yet I’m apparently the one in the wrong.” My pfft fans his meaty lips with ghastly dental-sterile breath.
For a moment, something filters through his eyes. It might be hurt—or perhaps even regret—but he pushes forward again, as stubborn as ever.
Confident I’m not a challenge for a man who exudes the command to rule an empire, I sidestep him, determined to get this little girl somewhere safe.
“Come on, let’s go find someone who can help.”
As I lead her away from the SUV, the man looms behind us like a heavy, unyielding shadow. Each step I take to widen the gap my speed should provide, his long strides erase.
My pulse pounds in my ears as I squeeze the girl’s hand tighter. I have no desire to harm her. I merely want to ensure my grip is strong enough so the man can’t snatch her away if he tries to yank her out of my grasp as he did with the SUV’s doorframe.