Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 144435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
“I-I-I…” She gives up trying to explain when she can’t get the words out through her chattering teeth and shivering body. She’s too fucking cold, too pale.
My heart pounds, fear for her coursing through me with every heavy beat. I scoop her up, suitcase and all, and carry her into the house, kicking the door closed behind me. Her suitcase falls to the tile floor with a thud. I step over it, charging toward the bedroom as fury churns through me.
What the hell was she doing out there?
Did she walk all the way here from the ferry terminal?
It may be June, but the temperature is in the low fifties, and it’s a good twenty-minute walk here on a good day. Today is the exact-fucking-opposite of a good day. The rain is frigid. It’s been hailing on and off for hours.
“W-w-w-what?”
“Warming you up,” I growl, answering her question before she can finish it. I carry her into the primary suite and then straight through to the bathroom. As soon as we’re over the threshold, I set her on the vanity and grab a fluffy black bath towel. “Your skin is like ice. We need to get you out of these clothes and get you into something warm and dry.”
Her teeth chatter again.
I wrap the towel around her, chafing her arms with it to sop up as much excess water from her skin as I can. She tries to help but shakes too hard to be helpful. I set my jaw, clenching my teeth to keep from snarling like a wild beast.
The cop in me is ready to demand answers. Raven is smart. Too smart to pull a stunt like this. The overprotective man who thinks about her endlessly wants to cuddle her close and fix whatever drove her here. And the possessive, autocratic asshole wants to spank her perfect ass. I’m all three at once, warring for control.
She’s trembling too hard to help me strip her wet clothes from her body. I try like hell not to look at her soft curves, and the tantalizing peeks of porcelain skin beneath my rough hands, but I can’t help but see them. I can’t help but see her.
Brantley, you son of a bitch. You’re supposed to be here. You’re supposed to stop this.
Except…he’s not. He can’t.
At this point, I’m not even sure heaven itself could stop me from claiming this little songbird as my own. God help us both; I’m not sure anything can.
Chapter Two
RAVEN
“Don’t move,” Rhys growls.
I swallow hard at the thunderous scowl etched into his handsome face, trying to burrow deeper into my own naked embrace as shivers wrack my body.
How did I get here? I wonder, watching him as he storms from the bathroom. The muscles in his upper arms and back bunch and coil, shifting as he turns slightly to fit his broad frame through the door. I’m naked and soaking wet, drenched in tears and shame. Meanwhile, he looks like he should be throwing tires down a football field instead of investigating violent crimes.
He might be the biggest man I’ve ever met. He’s undoubtedly the hottest…and the grumpiest. I’m pretty sure his forest green eyes see right through me. They pick the dirty thoughts out of my head as if I spoke them aloud. It’s impossible to look at him and not think them, though. He’s so damn sexy to me, like a storybook hero.
If, you know, storybook heroes were cranky giants with windswept dark hair, uneven lips, bold tattoos, and skin permanently bronzed from the sun. And if they also happened to star in every dirty dream you have and be your deceased father’s best friend and personal security guard. I don’t think there are many storybook heroes like him.
I also don’t think he’s particularly happy to see me. Not that I blame him since I just showed up unannounced on his doorstep with a suitcase. I didn’t intend to come here at all, but my dad always told me to trust Rhys.
He’s a good man, poppet. One of the best I’ve ever met. If you’re ever in trouble, you find him, you hear me? You find Rhys. He’ll protect you.
I think I’m in trouble now.
My whole world is falling apart at the seams. I have no home. No family. No money. Nothing.
Right before my nineteenth birthday, my mom died in a car accident. I didn’t think I was going to survive it, but I had my dad to help me through it. Now, he’s gone too. Three months ago, he was killed in a robbery gone wrong. Whoever broke in didn’t expect to find him at home. They murdered him and ransacked the house. Seattle Police Department still has no leads.
They’re dragging their feet while my world slowly collapses.
Little by little, my stepmom chipped away at everything I had left. She canceled my credit cards first, saying it was time I learned how to be responsible for myself. Then she canceled my tuition payment for my final year at Berklee; only she waited until the last minute to tell me. It’s too late to apply for scholarships for next year. I won’t graduate.