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A twinge of pain shot up to her heart. No, you can’t help us. Nobody can. We’ve been royally screwed from here to eternity. Anna cleared her throat, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill and put on a fake, brave face. “I’m fine, sir. Really.”
Ralph watched her hard, then shook his head. “Stubborn girl. You tell me when you’re ready. Now, let’s eat.”
Anna ate the lunch with gusto, putting on a show that she was fine. She tried not to think about anything else at the moment, she was afraid her façade would break apart. The Martels must never find out who she really was and she must do everything she could to save her father.
She felt stuffed when they finished eating. Sleepy, too. The combination between a full stomach and the ocean breeze made her want to doze off. Ralph had told her there would be no work while they were in St. Croix. He just wanted her companionship. She wondered if he would mind if she asked for a few hours off to catch a nap. She needed a clear head to think about what she should do next. She wasn’t getting anywhere with the secret formula, and in the meantime, the syndicate was bullying her father.
“What is that?” Ralph pointed to the book that peeked out from her tote bag. “A romance novel?” He grabbed it and ogled the risqué cover.
“Oh, that. I got it at the gift shop. I figured I’d do some reading while we’re here.”
Ralph grinned from ear to ear as he leafed through the pages. “An eroti
c book? Tsk, tsk, tsk. You’re a naughty girl, Anna.”
“Erotic? That’s supposed to be a romance novel.”
“Uh, huh. I see a cock and a pussy doing the horizontal hula hoop on page five.”
Shit. Anna tried to grab the book but Ralph lifted it away from her reach.
“Shh. It’s actually pretty hot.” Ralph skimmed a few more pages then shoved the book into her hand. “Read it for me.”
“Excuse me?”
“Read the hot part.”
Anna felt bewildered. “Why?”
Ralph pecked a kiss on her lips. “Maybe we can re-enact the hot scene.”
Suddenly, she didn’t feel sleepy anymore. “I…um…”
“Read it. That’s an order.”
Order. Why, of course. Half-heartedly, Anna opened up the book, trying to find the part he mentioned. She regretted buying it. She hadn’t been paying attention to what kind of novel she’d picked when she did the impulse shopping. She’d just wanted some reading material.
Raphael tossed the remainder of their lunch into the basket and snuggled behind her. Her heart beat faster when he slipped a hand under her sundress, groping her thigh. She moistened. Anna cursed in silence. She shouldn’t be this horny when she had so much on her mind.
“Go on,” he urged. His lips were a hairsbreadth away from her ear and his hot breath seared her nape, causing delicious shivers to travel down her spine. “I’m ready for my bedtime story.”
Anna gave him a wary look. “It’s noon. Don’t you think it’s too early?”
“Don’t try to change the subject. I’ve been dying to spend some quality, intimate time with you.”
He had?
“How did you like my brothers?” Ralph nuzzled behind her ear. “They are good at bed-sports, aren’t they?”
Good? No kidding. She’d had more orgasms in the past week than she’d had in her lifetime. Anna stifled a breath when his naughty hand found its way to the juncture of her thighs.
He cupped her mound, feeling her pussy. Raphael let out a delighted purr when he found her damp. “Go on. Read it. Page five. I saw some hot action in there.”
She gulped hard. Her hand trembled as she skimmed through the pages to find the part he wanted. Anna read the passage. Her cheeks flushed hot. Goodness. Who wrote this book? She’d thought this one was going to be one of those sanitised versions of the bodice ripper romance. Well, she should’ve guessed. When the author put ‘Chloe’s Submission’ in the title, she should have expected some kinks thrown in the mixture.
“Anna.”
“Sorry.” She cleared her throat again. This was getting ridiculous. “Lady Chloe Fareweather felt the heat slowly surge from her depths as Master Wren ordered her to shed the last garment that clung on her fevered, willing body.” Good lord. Who wrote this freaking book again? Anna did a double-take at the cover. She didn’t recognise the name of the author. Figures.
