Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 102942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Raiden laughs and scoops his shirt off the floor before striding toward me. He stops and slips the shirt right over my head, letting it fall down to my thighs. “We’ll see about that, Firecracker,” he murmurs, his arm scooping around me to grab and squeeze my ass before dropping another kiss to my cheek. “I’ll get that door fixed. Unless you want to stay in my apartment.”
“In that bland, unpacked mess of boxes? Keep dreaming,” I say, before pointing out toward the corridor. “I’ll be seeing you, Raiden Kane. But in the meantime, might I suggest touching up on those fighting skills? You’re going to need them.”
He strides past me, laughing. “Sure thing, babe. You keep telling yourself that,” he says, stepping over the threshold, only to pause and glance back. “But just remember, when I annihilate you, I gave you all the warning you could have needed. It’s not my fault your ego is standing between you and reality.”
And with that, he slips away, leaving me here with a mess to clean up and one hell of a chip on my shoulder.
CHAPTER 18
KIARA
Ineed to kill something.
It doesn’t even matter what it is or what job I have to take; I just need to get out of this apartment and work. Just the knowledge that Raiden Kane thinks, for even a second, that he’s better than me, despite his lack of cold, hard evidence, is just insane.
What the fuck is wrong with that man? I swear, if he didn’t have that dick attached to him, I’d probably have taken him out by now. I have been in a perpetual state of annoyance since the moment he kicked down my door, and not to mention, breaking right through my industrial-sized deadbolt.
Asshole.
Actually, that’s not right. I haven’t been annoyed since then. I’ve been annoyed since the moment I saw his stupid face. God, why does that face have to be so damn attractive with that sharp jaw and stubble? I’m such a sucker. Every time he’s near me, I can’t work out if my heart is racing because I’m holding back the need to kill him or jump him. It’s a real mystery, but after he took me on the counter yesterday, I’m starting to think it’s the latter.
I think I’m falling for Raiden Kane.
Fuck.
I pace through my living room, my phone directly in the center of the coffee table, sitting with Spikezilla and her four new pots, as I wait for any kind of contract to come through. I don’t even care what it is. The biggest contract I’ve ever seen in some remote location that’ll take me away for months, or Bobby down the street who I’ll have dealt with before lunch. I just need something.
I’m a mess in a stupid shirt—Raiden’s shirt, to be exact. Since the moment he slipped it over my head, I haven’t been able to take it off. Not even when he came to fix my door. I just hid out in my bedroom, because it’d be a cold day in hell before I show him how hung up I’ve become. Besides, it smells fucking delicious. I could drown in the scent.
What is it about this man? He’s an egotistical, loud-mouthed moron. I should be thoroughly repulsed, yet here I am, pacing my living room like an idiot, just waiting and hoping I might hear just a hint of him through the wall.
I really am in trouble. I’ve got it bad.
Ding!
I pounce on that motherfucker like a cat in heat, scrambling for the phone before another agent has the chance to accept the job, and before I’ve even scanned over the particulars, I hit accept, and promptly crash down on my couch, my heart pounding with adrenaline.
“Holy shit,” I breathe, needing a second to recover from the overflow of wild emotions rushing through my body. I’m working up a sweat. Not once on a job have I ever felt that level of sheer desperation. Jesus Christ!
Blowing out a heavy breath, I pull up my phone and start looking over the job I just accepted, and as I take it in, I sigh.
Okay, not exactly what I was hoping for. Looks like a quick, local job that’ll be over in all of two seconds, with an abysmal payout of only a hundred grand, but hell, this job is about my sanity and giving myself something other than Raiden Kane to occupy my brain. It’s not about the money.
Pulling out my laptop, I start searching.
Preston Vaughn, fifty-two years old. Recently divorced after a very public cheating scandal. His ex-wife is Rachel Vaughn, a famous actress.
She was humiliated during their divorce proceedings, and if I had to take a guess, after taking him to the cleaners for everything he was worth, she’s now responsible for taking his life.