Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
His glance slanted towards the digital clock next to the wall-mounted TV behind the bar, and Jaak estimated that he only had ten minutes left.
Ten minutes.
If he had any doubt that Ilse Muir had him by the balls—-
He reached for his phone one last time, but instead of making another call that she would no doubt ignore, he began typing.
—-this was fucking it.
Hashing out emotional stuff over text messaging used to be something the billionaire thought he would never be guilty of. He was no etiquette monster like Willem, but he did think that text messaging made a rather sterile and puerile medium when resolving relationship conflicts.
And yet here he fucking was—-
The billionaire pressed the Send button, and off his message went.
I miss you, Ilse.
His phone vibrated a few seconds later, a new message arriving at his inbox.
I miss you, too.
The billionaire immediately tried calling her, but when the call went unanswered, he knew he had no choice.
Jaak: Have you been avoiding me because I didn’t fuck you?
Ilse: You’re only half-joking, aren’t you?
Jaak: The other half of me thinks you wised up. You finally saw me for the loser I am.
Seconds passed, and his phone remained frustratingly silent and still. His glance slanted towards the clock, and his jaw clenched. Seven minutes. He knew he could excuse himself for being late, but years of strict etiquette were hard to ignore. He had promised Willem he would be there on time, and although he was an ass about a lot of things, his word was his bond.
But just as he was about to reach for his wallet, his phone started to ring, and when he answered, Ilse’s voice reached him like a dreamy caress.
“Jaak.”
His eyes shut closed for a moment. “Ilse.”
“You’re only half-right, I’m afraid.” Her voice became softer, tender, the kind of voice that he had only heard Ilse use when talking to her brother. “Because I do want you to fuck me.”
The billionaire stiffened.
“I want you to make me yours, and I want you to be mine. I want you to surrender everything to me. Your fears, your pain, and most of all—-” Her voice caught, and his chest tightened.
“I want your secrets most of all, Jaak.”
His name on her lips was like having his world set to right again.
“You told me to wait, and I did think about waiting. But in the end, I don’t think I should. If I waited like you said I should, I think you’ll make me wait forever—-”
“Ilse—-”
“That’s why I had to leave.”
Ah.
“I’m jealous of your secrets, Jaak. They’ve owned you far too long.” A heartbeat of silence passed before she pressed ever so gently, “Don’t you think it’s my turn to own you?”
What she was asking felt too much and too little at the same time, but even so, the billionaire knew there could only be one way to answer her.
There had always been only one way to answer Ilse.
If she needed him, he would be there for her.
“How can I be yours,” he murmured gruffly, “if I don’t know where you are?”
Silence.
And then—-
“Oh, Jaak.”
And it was the most beautiful words that had ever touched his ears because in them he heard the promise of hope and redemption, the promise that one day soon, the other words they both needed to hear and say would come.
“Is t-there a TV where you are?”
The question startled him. “Why?”
“Switch to E.”
The billionaire frowned, knowing that the said channel had exclusive rights to air real-time coverage of the invitational ball Willem had organized. “This is a bad idea,” he said grimly even as he gestured towards the bartender and murmured the request under his breath.
“Why would you say that?”
“Something tells me this has to do with the woman friends of mine have been hinting about.”
“O-oh?”
“I had a business meeting earlier.” The TV display switched to E as the billionaire spoke. “They were telling me about this woman they had met last night at the premier, some airhead who seemed to have said something to make people believe she was my girlfriend—-” He broke off as he found himself meeting Ilse’s big brown eyes...
Through the TV.
“An airhead, you say?” Ilse asked very sweetly.
“The loveliest, sexiest airhead,” he said without missing a beat.
Ilse glanced back at the camera, and as the camera zoomed in, her lovely full lips curved in a secretive, seductive smile – a Mona Lisa smile if he had ever seen one. And that smile said simply, Come look for me.
“HE’S HERE.” THE WHISPERED words from Serenity Raleigh waltzed teasingly to Ilse’s ear, and the palest shiver ran down her spine. He’s here. He’s here. He’s here. It had only been three days since she had last seen the billionaire, and yet each second had made her heart ache like it had been hurting for an eternity.