Twisted Vines: A dark billionaire romance (Thorn Trilogy Book 2) by January James

Author:January James [James, January]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-06-28T16:00:00+00:00

Vivian

I couldn’t help but rejoice at my little display of defiance. I doubted anyone would have been watching, maybe some security guy or other. You’re welcome. But I harboured a secret fantasy that Rupert was on the other end of the feed, finding the whole scene excruciating.

I pattered through the cottage opening windows. I could only tolerate the smell of chocolate muffins for so long. I didn’t even particularly like chocolate muffins but I was so damn bored I couldn’t think of anything else to do. I planned to give them to Minty. She could share them with whoever she liked.

I looked out at the garden and watched the grass turn gold in the setting sun. I found it hard to admit but I truly loved this island, despite the fact it was poisoned and I was chained to it for another four months. It could be amazing, a real jewel in Scotland’s crown. It was a shame the people who owned it were such selfish, corrupt excuses for humans.

A sound on the gravel outside made me turn. If there was one more thing left to love about this place, it was the peace at this time of evening and the fact no one bothered me. Usually, the only sound to be heard through the open window was that of the waves lapping at the shore less than a mile south.

I walked quietly back to the kitchen, all my senses tuned into the noises around the cottage. The sound of voices made my skin bristle; I wasn’t expecting anyone and, apparently, the Thorns didn’t knock. My blood ran cold at the thought it might be Ossian.

My heart rate quickened and I backed into the kitchen cabinets. As footsteps neared the door, I felt blindly around for the handle to a cutlery drawer. It slid open quietly and my fingers crawled across the steel forks and spoons. Knife. I needed a knife. And a sharp one, not a damn dinner knife.

Keeping my eyes trained on the door, my fingers slid across a long, thick, sharp object. The sound of crunching gravel echoed beyond the walls. Vehicles were moving in and out of the parking bay. What was going on? My eyes started to water since I didn’t dare blink, and the handle on the door began to turn. I curled my fingers around the object in the drawer and lifted it out, bringing it to my side.

The door pushed inwards and whatever vehicles had been running a minute ago had gone; there were no headlights, tail lights, nothing. When a brogue stepped onto the flagstones, my heart rate shot through the roof. I recognised those shoes, that sureness of foot. My gaze travelled upwards and reached his face just as he closed the door behind him. His eyes were the blackest I’d ever seen them.

“What are you doing here?” My words came out quieter than a breeze through a field of dandelion clocks. They simply sailed into thin air like the tiny parachute seeds I would spend hours as a child blowing and chasing.

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