Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
The next morning, I’m in the kitchen sipping one of my overpriced coffees. Coffee is one of my few addictions. Despite my simple way of living, I still find myself going into town to purchase these special little pods.
I spent an uneasy night in my bed. For the few minutes I did manage to sleep, the orange glow was back. But it was different this time. There wasn’t just orange. There was a strange man, a figure cloaked in darkness. He came for me, beckoned me close.
When I got up, I shook off the dream and took a long shower. During it, I decided to let this girl stick around for a couple of days until Roman figures out what’s going on. For some reason, I feel protective over her. Like she’s mine to look after.
Once Roman brings me evidence that she’s a con artist, I’ll get her the help she needs. Then I can go back to my quiet life.
Aurora rises from the couch and stumbles into the kitchen. Her hair is matted and plastered to her head. Dark circles are under her eyes as though she didn’t sleep at all. I feel a stab of guilt for that. I could have given her the bed. See, further proof I’m no prince. A real prince would have given her the bed.
“You snore,” she hisses instead of greeting me.
“Herbert has never complained,” I counter, not sure why I find her so damn adorable like this. What would it be like to have a woman around, someone to spend my days annoying?
“And who is Herbert? Because he must be deaf!”
“My turtle.”
She whirls around and pins me with a look that tells me she does not find this amusing.
I fight a grin and jerk my head toward the coffee machine. “Want some?”
She moves to stand in front of it then she freezes as though she has no clue what she’s doing. She blinks up at me with her big doe eyes and my gaze goes to her puffy, pink lips. What would they feel like under mine? Fuck, I should not be thinking that when she’s here to deceive me and take my money.
The slightest ring of vulnerability is in her tone when she says, “Can you show me how? I have people to do this for me.”
“Of course, you do,” I mutter under my breath as I reach for the machine. It’s not meant to come out as grumpy as it does. Then again, I’ve never been a people person. There’s a reason I only have Herbert for company.
I show her how to load the machine and point to the buttons. “Choose your size.”
She studies the buttons for so long it’s almost comical.
“Go with the medium.” I will not let her innocent behavior make me think she’s really a princess. I won’t let the way my t-shirt dips low on her chest make me wonder about the exact shade of her nipples.
She presses the button. When the coffee begins brewing, she claps her hands together in delight and graces me with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen.
“I made coffee for myself!” She says this as though she’s never done it in her life. For a moment, a flicker of doubt goes through me. Is it possible she is who she claims to be?
“Thank you.” She reaches around me for her mug. Except that my brain gets it all scrambled and thinks for some crazy reason that she’s going in for a kiss.
I drop my head, suddenly aware of the way our breaths mingle, of the way her eyes are so big and round. But most of all, I’m aware of how her breasts are pushing against my chest. They’re rounded and heavy, and my fingers itch to reach out and squeeze them.
She whimpers, the slightest sound of desire, and it’s enough to pull me from my trance. It doesn’t matter if she’s a con artist or a princess. I’m not kissing her, and I’m definitely not falling in love with her.
Aurora
I thought he was going to kiss me, and I’m surprised by how disappointed I am when Rafael pulls back.
He moves to the fridge, muttering something under his breath. He pulls out plastic bottles. I’m not even sure what they are, but he must have a dozen of them.
“Flavorings,” he grunts out the word.
I wait, confused by his bottles and his almost kiss. He has beautiful thick lips. The kind that I can’t help wanting to run my tongue across.
“They’re for the coffee. You pour them in to give it a gourmet flavor.”
I think I understand now. I scan a few of the bottles, selecting a caramel one. I add a liberal amount of it to my cup. Wanting to break the tension in the air, I say, “Tell me about Herbert.”