Whisper (The Voice trilogy Book 1) by Noelle Bodhaine Read Free Book Online Page B

body from the open windows. I am unable to quiet the incessant chatter cluttering my head. And the heat, the heat is inside of me, making me so aware of my body. Attempting to banish Rhys to the farthest recesses of my mind I sit up in the dark and search for the television remote.  

    Chapter 4 
     
    “…. In the World .”  I vaguely register Jeremy Clarkson’s voice declaring the worst car in the world, eyes closed, breathing deep and even, on the edge of sleepy oblivion when I am roused by a soft rap on the door.
    “Room Service .” With a blanket wrapped around my shoulders, I pull the door open, a protest already passing my lips.
    “I’m sorry, but I didn’t…” Before I can get the words out Rhys peers around the corner and dismisses the room service waiter.
    “I’ll take it from here, chap.” Pushing past the dumbstruck waiter, he rolls the silver cart into the room, turning and slipping the young man a tip before closing the door, turning his attention to me. “I thought perhaps a midnight snack,” revealing an array of snacks from underneath the shiny silver serving dome. Plump, ripe figs, green globe grapes and Chevre accompanied by a sliced baguette and shaved prosciutto.  My stomach growls at the sight. Realizing I haven’t eaten since brunch, I momentarily forget to question what he is doing in my room, yet again. I pick at the grapes mindlessly watching him move about the cart, he is fidgeting. Is he nervous? What on earth for? 
    “What are you doing here, Rhys?” quizzing as I nibble on grapes, pushing the sleepiness back.
    “We should talk.” His tone is pensive and unsure. God, I hate those words, we should talk. Nothing good ever comes from that phrase , I hate those words.
    “OK.” I am unsure of his motives, but intrigued and a little hungry come to think of it. He moves into the room, scanning his surroundings, looking anywhere but in my eyes.
    “You’re a good girl, Sophie.” Was that a question? It sounded like a declaration. Whatever it is, I am immediately defensive.
    “You don’t know me.” With only five little words this man has got my back up.
    “I know enough to know that I don’t want to hurt you.” He moves to sit at the edge of the bed . “And if this happens… Us. You will get hurt. I don’t do relationships.” I stand above him, arms crossed, trying to hide the growing anger in my eyes.
    “Wow! Does your ego know no bounds? We have known each other for a minute, and you think I want to be in a relationship with you? You don’t know anything about me, Rhys. You have made assumptions about me, but you are very wrong.”
    “Fine,” he says. “Are you a good girl, Sophie?” His wide eyes wait. My mind rages and I open my mouth to respond with a bite, but quickly snap it shut. 
    “I. What is wrong with that? Why does it sound like an insult? What does it even mean?” I am exasperated. Why would being good be a bad thing? He stands, resting his hands on my shoulders, sending a spark across my skin, looking down on me with soft, pity filled eyes.
    “It means you are good and sweet. You are Olivia’s friend and I hope you will be mine.” I push away from him and cross the room. I need distance, moving into the corner, closer to the open windows and fresh air, air that is not riddled with his scent.
    “So, now you want to be my friend?” Frustration at his judgment boils over and I lose control of my tongue, while Olivia’s words echo in my head, ‘Be careful, he is a force.’ “ I see what you do Rhys. You like to keep women off balance. Well, you won’t rattle me. Just because my bed post isn’t whittled to a toothpick from all the notches doesn’t mean I am a good girl! Just because I am not sexually hyperactive or walk around with my body on display, like your contemporaries doesn’t mean I am not a grown woman. You have misjudged me and overestimated your effect, I might add.” I move back into his orbit. “It is one thing that I