Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 160782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 804(@200wpm)___ 643(@250wpm)___ 536(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 804(@200wpm)___ 643(@250wpm)___ 536(@300wpm)
He nods. “Yeah, I get it. I will speak to you tonight.” He smiles and leaves my office.
I blow out a breath that I didn’t even realize I was holding. If Adrian doesn’t go out with him, he’s crazy. That man is frigging hot. I regain my composure and leave my office. “Ready to go?” I smile at Max.
He nods and we leave the building. Suddenly cameras start flashing and two men start to scream. “Natasha Stanton, is your husband going to make a full recovery?” Huh?
“Is your husband still a sex addict, Mrs. Stanton?”
What the hell? My horrified eyes meet Max’s.
“Is he still currently in rehab, Mrs. Stanton?”
Max steps in front of me and holds out his arm to shield me, obviously much more accustomed to this than me. We make a run for his car with them chasing us. This is ridiculous, is this really what the world has come to? How could anyone be interested in this trivial nonsense?
“Is your husband a sex addict and a cocaine addict, Mrs. Stanton?”
I get into the passenger seat of Max’s car and he speeds away. He looks into the rearview mirror to check we are not being followed.
“Shit, that was intense,” I whisper to Max wide-eyed.
He nods. “I was wondering how long it would take for them to find you. Just make sure you don’t give them a reaction when they ask you any questions. It just amps the assholes up.”
“I would really like to answer their questions with ‘yes, he is a sex addict, possibly a cocaine addict and a total adulterer prick and I’m not his fucking wife, asshole’. Not even close,” I snap as I throw my handbag into the backseat.
He smirks at me. “Tough.” He smiles.
I rearrange my cardigan and fold my arms as my anger rises again. I can’t believe I am now being followed, by his paparazzi. For his mistakes. This has got to take the cake.
“I am going to call Joshua and tell him you need extra protection for a while.” Max mutters while watching the road, and the wipers come on automatically as it starts to sprinkle rain.
My heart sinks. I wish I could call Joshua. I would dearly love to hear his velvety deep voice. I miss him… already. My sad eyes stare out the window; this is so unfair. He has made this painful bed for me and now unfortunately I have to lie in it…alone.
“You can tell him that you are the only bodyguard I will have, or he can forget it.”
Max’s eyes flick to me. “I’m not telling him that, you should call him if you have something to say.”
I fake a smile. “Nice try, Max, I am not calling him. I am not texting him and I am definitely not thinking about him. If you don’t tell him that then I won’t have a bodyguard at all. I don’t care, it’s up to you.”
“Natasha, you have cost me my job already. Do not start pulling your two-year-old tantrums now, because I won’t stand for it,” he snaps.
I narrow my eyes as my temperature rises. Now even Max is pissing me off. Actually, is there anything in the world that doesn’t piss me off? I nearly punched the screen on the treadmill today when it wouldn’t give me my calories burned. I have some serious anger issues going on. It will be better when I get back to work next week, I just need to keep busy.
8
Natasha
I’m cut. So deep that I can feel myself bleeding out, gasping for air… for life. If I was hooked up to a heartrate monitor it would show the weakening of my heartbeat every hour, every minute without him. The sound of the beep would be getting softer beat by beat. I feel like a plant that has been starved of the sun, in total darkness.
I don’t know how to not love Joshua Stanton. I have loved him for every minute of every hour of every day since I was a seventeen-year old girl. He was my life, my every dream and until now I didn’t realize what an ingrained part of my psyche he was. I dream of him nearly every night. Horrible nightmares, ones where we are in the tunnel and he is being beaten to death and I am raped, or the other dream, the one where I am forced to watch him make tender passionate love to Amelie. It’s so real that I can see the sheen of perspiration on his body, hear his cries as his orgasms rip through him. Feel him quiver with need, kiss her lips as they both gasp for air. I don’t know which dream I dread the most, they are both horrific. But it’s the vision of Joshua and Amelie making love that haunts me throughout my working day. Are they making love right now?