RIPPED: A Dark Romance (Killer Lips Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

I guess it isn't so fanciful- to have a car in Venice it would have to come without wheels. Riding around everywhere in a boat sounds so damned sexy though. And it's a black cigarette  speedboat – a boat for spies and supermodels.
    Mark places my suitcase in a chest so it won't get soaked with spray. The boat purrs into action and even I can tell the engine is tugging, itching to go full throttle. But the waves on the lagoon are terrifyingly aggressive, whipping up into a ferocious tantrum. Surely Mark will take it easy.
    Instead he takes each rolling wave as a personal affront, riding slowly up the curve, surrendering to its power. Then, when the hull brushes against the pinnacle, he guns the motor so we fly from the impetus and slam down on the other side. Like a triumphant warrior he take offs in a sprint across the flat tide before it gathers and he faces it down again.
    My fingers are stark white rimmed with blood red where I grip the edges of the black leather seat, certain we're about to wipe out in a surfing disaster. Josh and Mark face the gale up front at the windshield in a whirl of adrenalin and I'm relieved when we finally turn into the mouth of the Grand Canal and the hugest waves are contained within the banks.
    My heart racing, we ride the maddened swell up the most incredible waterway in the world, now pulsing high against the buildings and ready to burst over the fondamenta . The snow blasts at my eyes as we approach the hexagon of the Rialto Bridge.
    Mark veers toward one of the grand palaces edging the water, two massive wooden portals swing open and we are enter the bowels of the centuries old edifice. I feel more invigorated and alive than ever in my entire existence.
    “This is amazing, how the canal comes inside the house” I say, breathy with excitement and spent adrenalin. “It's like being back in medieval times. And kind of creepy.”
    “I often think of traitors gate at the Tower of London,” Josh says. “How those condemned souls were rowed up the Thames, through the gates, never to emerge.”
    His father pulls the boat smoothly up alongside a crumbling stone quay and Josh jumps out to tie it off to a hoary iron cleat the size of a dinner plate.
    When he clasps my hand to raise me onto solid ground, I feel as light as a wisp of silk. My inner thighs clench as he keeps my palm in his grasp, holding me to his brutal wide body.
    Up a flight of stone steps, so old the lip of each has curved smooth with erosion. A huge wooden door, studded with black iron opens into an opulent hallway.
    Mark takes my case from his son and claims my attendance to lead me up another wide flight of stairs carpeted in blood red. Only after we've walked the length of the hall, which is like crossing a stadium, does he throw back a tall carved wood door, all molded in intricate carving and glossed with gilt
    “This is your room,” he announces and I gasp despite my promise-to-self to not act like a gawping tourist or whitetrash poor relation.

Chapter FOUR
 
    “Oh wow, I feel like Sleeping Beauty or some character in a fairy tale taken to the castle,” I say in a whisper. Because apart from the size, the sumptuous beauty of the solid craftsmanship in the room is overwhelming.
    Rich golden silks cover the four-poster bed as well as the small chairs and chaise lounges placed in front of  the tall windows. Chandeliers of hand-blown glass from the island of Murano close by, make the room glow softly along with a hundred candles.
    Lush hand-knotted silk carpets of gold and palest pink cover the wide ancient floorboards. The fire burns ferocious in the huge stone grate and it all seems almost as though I'd been expected.
    “It's a pleasure to have someone use this room for once.”
    “If I were your family I'd be here every weekend,” I blunder, then immediately wish I could take it back.
    I look up at him and tremble inside. He's closer than anticipated, his enervating glow penetrates me as we exchange buried