Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
My chest rises. I hock a loogie and spit. It lands on Madeline’s nose. She reaches into the car so fast that my eyes snap shut, preparing for her hit. The man points his gun in her direction. The hammer cocks back in one fluid motion. Leering at us both, Madeline smirks before slamming the door closed and stalking to a Land Rover parked behind a thicket of trees.
Through the rearview, my abductor’s dark marble eyes glare through me. “Gorgeous, are you ready for your final destination?”
Swallowing my emotions, I set my jaw. “No. I don't understand!”
“As Madeline Elliott just said, you’re here to pay for Tudor’s sins. A while back, Tudor laid his filthy hands on . . . something that didn't belong to him.” The man gulps back his repulsion, jabbing the push-button start.
“You can’t do this,” I cry, as illumination from the headlights dispels the darkness.
“You no longer are Luxury Whitson. You no longer belong to Victor Tudor. Every breath that you breathe, every time your eyes open, it will be at the mercy of Sheikh Al Rafi.”
50
Victor
I remember one day in particular. I came home to Arlington. Instead of finding my lovely wife and my growing tot, I read a bloody eloquently written letter. Later, I’d learn that I drove past the accident site on my way home.
I’d been in a hurry to return.
Always bloody fucking late.
Always apologizing for this, that, and the other.
Mum’s behavior.
My royal duties.
The next urgent rush from Tudor Enterprises.
I’d not shared with anyone how Emeli had planned to leave—and left. Sure, the staff knew. The bloody servants know most everything. But I’d not formulated those words and released them into the atmosphere until Luxury.
I told her these things, and the chit promised never to leave.
Broke that fucking promise too soon.
Can I blame her?
No.
Now, blood throbs beneath my knuckles where I’ve pounded them into Lake Russell’s face, his jaw, his nose. This cunt’ll never look the same. Never smile that smarmy arse smile. When I’m done with the lad, he’ll never get up either. My fists spray over his crouched body, assaulting everywhere they land.
In a blind rage, I hardly see a flash of dark hair—until a slender body throws itself across him.
Protecting him.
Like I bloody should’ve protected Lux from my mum last night.
Bollocks, I hadn’t perceived the woman when she entered. Her narrow curves are between my fists and my opponent. I’m roused out of the dark possession, knuckles a hairsbreadth away from the cunt’s jaw.
“Please, duke, st-stop!” The woman cries out, eyes awash with tears. “We apologize for angering you. Whatever we may have done, we bloody apologize.”
“We?” I whisper.
Fuck, he found himself a good lady, just like my Little One.
While one of her arms embraces his unconscious body, the other’s erect in an effort to save him from me. “Lake’s sorry. I’m sorry. We have roused your anger, and for that, we are so very sorry.”
I view myself in her tearful gaze. No, I’m literally the sorry sack of shite between us. I stand to my full height, inhaling the bitter truth.
Lake didn’t put a wedge between Luxury and me.
No one in all of England could’ve stopped the way Luxury and I felt for each other. Not even my Queen. I ruined us.
As I let myself out of Lake’s home, I consider my next stop. Shall I go to New York at this precise instant?
Beg Luxury’s return?
The devil on my right shoulder has an impressive arsenal of sinfully romantic memories, reminding me of all the ways to mold her body against mine.
The angel on my right shoulder is thinking again, too, which he seldom does because that ardent bloke’s only good for one thing.
Recalling how I ruined Em.
Failed her.
Failed my son.
I ruined Madeline, apparently.
Should I go after Luxury now? Or should I wait? And how long would a possessive wanker like me wait for her to lick her wounds before I go crawling back to her, prostrate in atonement?
I shake my head. The sunlight kisses across my skin as I stand before the stony home of my enemy.
The last time we were in this scenario, Burt doubted that I’d leave the chit alone. Like I had nefarious schemes for her. Of course, I did. I wasn’t releasing my then addiction.
I murmur to myself, fishing keys from my pocket. All I do is fuck up Luxury’s life. I’d better wait a while this time. Focus on me so that I can love her better. That settles it.
I will wait . . . awhile.