Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 121898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
My only way of escape was to get in the blasted car.
Not that it mattered at this point. I was really quite aware of just how close to me Thomas was. There was barely an inch between our toes, and if I so much as twitched to the left, my head would touch his arm. I didn’t have a lot of room to move at all, but neither did he.
Still, that didn’t stop my stubborn arse from glaring at him for a good minute before I sniffed. “Kidnapping is still kidnapping, regardless of the reason.”
“Are you always this stubborn and argumentative or is it reserved just for me?” His lips tugged to the side in a wry smirk.
My tongue darted out to wet my lips, and his gaze briefly dropped to my mouth.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Thomas. You’re not that special.”
“Oh, so you’re an arsehole to everyone?”
“You know, you’re close enough to me that with one swift jerk of my knee, you’ll be wishing you never laid eyes on me again.”
That little smirk slowly morphed into a full grin, and he leant in closer to me, adjusting his footing to the side, almost pushing me further into the triangular gap of the open door and the front seat.
“Now why would I wish that?” he asked in a low voice, still grinning. “My life is so much more fun with you and your attitude in it.”
My heart thumped against my ribs, and a shiver twisted its way across my skin, making the hair on my arms stand on end.
What was he doing?
“Sylvie,” he said, tilting his head so his lips were close to my ear. “Get in the bloody car,” he whispered.
His breath fluttered my hair, and the warmth of it just ghosting my cheek as he pulled back only heightened the sensation of the goosebumps that were prickling across my skin.
God, I needed this to stop.
Being this attracted to Thomas—feeling like this with him this close—was not what I needed in my life right now.
Not now, not ever.
“Fine,” I snapped, taking hold of the passenger door. I dumped my handbag in the footwell and put one foot in the car, then turned back to him.
And karate chopped his arm, right on the inner crease of his elbow.
“Motherfu—”
I slammed the door before he could finish his curse and sat back in the plush leather seat, feeling quite proud of myself for that.
Was it childish? Yes.
Was it petty? Absolutely.
Did I care?
Not at fucking all.
CHAPTER ELEVEN – THOMAS
Mother of fucking God, that hurt.
I’d never been karate chopped on the inside of my elbow before, but I supposed there was a first time for everything.
If I was being honest, I really hoped it would be the only time I ever experienced such a thing.
It was surprisingly painful.
“You can wipe that smug smile off your face,” I told Sylvie as I pulled out of the parking spot. “You got me, I’ll give you that, but it won’t happen again.”
“I should hope you’d be smart enough to not corner me again like that.”
“What are you? A cat?”
“If the shoe fits, I will scratch.”
“Or karate chop,” I added.
“Or karate chop.” She clasped her hands in her lap and looked out of the window, a sign I took to be the end of the conversation.
I left it there like she wanted and simply drove her back to her grandparents’ house. I was glad I’d insisted upon taking her home—the temperature on the screen on the car was dropping rapidly, and it was now reading at below freezing.
Only an eskimo would walk home in this kind of weather.
Melted snow had iced over and formed puddles, and the slushy stuff that was left over from the first snowfall was freezing over as we drove. The last thing anyone needed was Sylvie walking home by herself in the dark, missing the ice, and going arse over tit in the middle of the road.
Especially since her grandparents’ house was on a dark and secluded country lane.
I pulled onto that very lane, navigated the icy corners, and turned onto the steep driveway that led to the house. I pulled up alongside it, put on the handbrake, and looked over at Sylvie.
She dipped her chin before peering up at me through her lashes. Her face was illuminated by the dancing flickers from the Christmas lights outside, and for a moment, I was struck by just how damn beautiful she was.
Her dark ginger hair was hidden under a pink beanie, but little wisps of it waved down her cheeks. They were still a little flushed from the cold, despite the heater in the car, and there was a shine in her pretty blue eyes that was either grateful or foreshadowing my death.
It really was a toss-up.
“Thank you,” Sylvie said after a moment in a soft voice. “For bringing me home. I do appreciate it.”