Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 92734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Morning might come, but relief from the nightmares never did.
* * *
Carrigan met Dmitri’s car outside, torn between feeling like a sacrificial victim and a call girl. She’d put aside her virginal wear for the date. Dmitri had already proven that he wasn’t stupid enough to be fooled by the persona, and she hated wearing it. So she’d picked a jade green dress that hit her at mid-thigh and hugged her body. It wasn’t the sexiest thing in her closet, but it was the first time she’d left the house feeling like her in longer than she cared to remember. She always wore one mask or another. Tonight she was setting them aside.
Let Dmitri think of that what he would.
Liam stood next to her, disapproval embodied in human form. He’d been like this since she got back the other day, and she deserved it. Carrigan took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have disappeared and turned off my phone.”
“Not for me to say.” He didn’t look over. “But if I were going to speak my mind, I’d say that was a dipshit thing to do and we both know it. My job is to keep you safe, and I can’t do that if I don’t know where you are.”
“I know.”
But he wasn’t through. “In all these years of you dicking around, have I ever reported you?”
He is seriously pissed. She wanted to snap back, but she fought the impulse down. He needed to say this and, after what she’d done, it was the least she could do to listen. It wasn’t like he was the first one to lecture her on her shitty life choices. Of the men in her life, Liam was probably the least judgmental. He deserved a chance to give his opinion, no matter how little she wanted to hear it. “No.”
“Have I ever passed judgment or said shit to make you feel like I’m one of your goddamn brothers, expecting you to act a certain way?”
“No.” She hated the guilt worming through her. The last thing she needed was to feel bad for disappointing yet another man in her life. She hadn’t even realized she cared about what Liam thought of her. He had the tendency to fade into the background—there when she needed him and invisible when she didn’t. They weren’t friends. They’d never be close. But she hated that she’d damaged what little respect he seemed to have for her. “I’m sorry, Liam. I screwed up. It won’t happen again.”
But apparently now that he’d broken his customary bodyguard silence, he wasn’t done. “I don’t like this any more than you, but we both have a job to do.”
“I know.”
He nodded, still not looking at her. “This Dmitri guy isn’t safe.”
“Probably not.” One encounter with him and she knew enough to know safe didn’t make the top twenty list of descriptions for Dmitri Romanov.
“Okay.” He rolled his shoulders. “You need me, you text. I don’t care if he’s the king of England. I’ll get you out of there.”
He’d be defying her father’s wishes to do it. She turned to face him fully, wanting to… hug him? Show him how grateful she was by reaching out? Neither fit in the realm of their roles. So she just stood taller and nodded. “Thank you, Liam.”
“Will you be making any excursions afterward?”
She shot him a look. “I was under the impression I’m confined to house arrest.”
He snorted. “Since when has that ever stopped you?”
It was a fair point. But hadn’t she just reasoned last night that things with James had to be over out of sheer self-preservation? Turning around less than twenty-four hours later and running into his arms wouldn’t do a damn thing to put some distance between them. “We’ll see.”
A black car pulled up to the curb, and a nondescript man got out. “Ms. O’Malley.” He hurried around to open the door for her, but Liam beat him to it. The man sputtered. “I was told—”
“You were told wrong.” She slid into the backseat and then scooted over to make room for Liam. He was right. He’d been there every step of the way and done his damnedest to keep her safe. She wouldn’t ditch him again. Especially since he alone didn’t see her time with James as one giant betrayal to the family.
I wonder why that is?
It didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was apparently on her side when she desperately needed someone in her corner. The driver seemed to have recovered from his confusion because he was back in the car and pulling away from the curb. She sat back and crossed her legs, trying to relax. She’d dealt with dangerous men before. She could do it again. At least this one was willing to negotiate and give her some freedom in return for her dancing to his tune.