Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
I nod, already regretting putting that on my card. The event organizer said honesty was important, but I’m starting to think I should have been more creative. There are other truthful things I could have talked about instead of me being—
“That’s incredible. A virgin in Hollywood.”
—that.
“You’re like a unicorn!”
And they always react like that, too.
Chuck leans forward, invading my personal space. “I could teach you so many things, babe. Show you what you’ve been missing. I’ve got a place in the Hills, king-size bed, mirror on the ceiling. You’d love it there.”
“Oh.”
It’s all I can think of saying. I just wanted to be polite. But this still ends up backfiring—
“Am I scaring you?”
—because now he’s looking at me like he wants to scare me even more.
“I know I’m pretty big. No, I’m a lot bigger than you. But you don’t have to worry. We can make it work. I promise I’ll be gentle.”
He winks after saying this, and I guess I really am a lot more innocent than I realized...since I’m not sure what he’s winking about?
“You know the reality show Fangs Suck? I was a guest there, and man. Those blood-drinking chicks dug me. They really did. You’ve seen it, right?”
I shake my head.
“I think I have it in my phone. I’ll send you a clip if you give me your number now.”
“Oh, that’s not allowed—”
“Even better. That’s when the fun starts, babe. When we start breaking rules, and then later, when we’re alone, we can break what’s between your—”
His words cut off with a startled yelp as two massive shapes literally lift him out of his chair.
Was that security?
Make that preter security, since they’re moving so fast I can barely track their motion as they carry a-still-seated Chuck and his chair through the emergency exit. The door slams shut, cutting off his protests about knowing people, lawsuits, and his father’s connections.
What just happened?
I’m still frozen in shock in my seat when someone quickly places a vacant chair in front of my table, and the next man—wait, there can’t be any next candidate yet. The bell hasn’t rung, and so who in the world—
Oh.
I finally remembered to look up, and I think...I think I’m having hallucinations.
Rub, rub, rub.
I open my eyes, but it’s still there, so...
Yup, still hallucinating.
I’m about to rub my eyes one more time when the hallucination actually speaks—
“Nous nous revoyons.”
And the voice...
Unmistakably real, painfully familiar, and that’s why I know, even if though it should be impossible...
Hexius Mercier.
Six years have passed since that day he rejected me as his bride, and...I just don’t know what to feel about him.
Back then, all I knew was that he was this French billionaire in need of a virgin bride.
Back then, I was still so young, my world so terribly small, and so whatever Pappoú said for me was law: real, true, unbreakable. It was only afterwards that I learned that the people you’ve lived with your whole life...
They can lie to you, too, and they’re not even doing it for your sake either.
Enough, Sam.
I shake off the past with an effort, and my stomach twists itself in knots as I reluctantly turn my attention back to the man who still haunts my dreams more than I want to admit. He’s taller and more powerful than I’ve allowed myself to remember, his aura more warrior than billionaire, and his eyes of gold so piercingly sharp that he seems to see everything...except me.
The memory of his rejection has me torn between squirming...and just running away. But because I really hate the thought of acting like a coward—
“Are you...are you here for the speed dating?” I realize it’s a stupid question as soon as I ask it, but it’s too late to take it back...since he’s already looking at me like, yes, I don’t know why I keep thinking that way, but yes, he’s looking at me like I’ve grown a pair of horns.
Let’s just mentally wipe the slate clean and start again, I urge myself. Maybe this is just a coincidence and he simply wants to say—no!
I reach across the table to stop him, but nope, I’m still too late. Again. And now he has my notes in my hands, and all my secret thoughts exposed to his soul-piercing eyes of gold.
Please let him NOT know how to read—
“Does not know how to leave and cleave.”
Eep, too late, he reads Greek, and I’m doomed.
“Traumatized by past,” he continues to read.
“Please give it back—”
“Seeks validation in educational attainment.”
I feel so bad hearing him say these words out loud. I wasn’t lying when I wrote them, but it just feels...wrong.
“Sexually preoccupied.”
Is it just me or did his lips tighten while saying those words? Then again, so what if—no!
I make another attempt to snatch my notes back when I see him flipping to the previous page, but my reflexes fail me for the nth time. Is it because I’m human or I’m just...not physically gifted?