Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 103656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
“That’s what I’ve been telling her,” Nadia supplies from beside me, but I’m too focused on the captain’s face to pay attention to her.
His free hand strokes my cheek so gently and lovingly, I think I’m going to melt. “You can do this, Solnyshko.”
No.
Nope.
I must be dreaming or else…or else…Captain Kirill just called me his sun. A term of endearment that’s only used between lovers.
My jaw is about to hit the ground when he strokes my chin, subtly closing my parted lips.
The motion is fast and straightforward, but he might as well have provoked a war in my chest. The place where he touched me tingles and heats, leaving me gasping due to something a lot different than pain.
A prick swerves my attention to my arm that Nadia has successfully gotten a needle into. The sight fills my throat with nausea.
“Look at me, Solnyshko.”
As if hypnotized, I turn my head in his direction. For some reason, his icy eyes aren’t so savage anymore, but they’re still dangerous. He’s successfully hidden his nature behind the black-framed glasses, but not enough to fool me.
“It’s going to be okay,” he says in that fake softness that wrenches a shiver out of me.
What…is this? How am I supposed to stare at the captain and not think of him as my captain?
The space between my legs warms and tingles. It’s uncomfortable enough that I want to push him away and go hide somewhere.
“We’re all done.” Nadia interrupts the moment, and I blink once as I break contact with his hypnotizing eyes.
Nadia hands over my painkillers and a glass of water. “These will dull the pain. If you’re tired, sleep. My husband will be here to see you shortly.”
“Thank you, Nadia, and not only for this, but also for taking us in when we had nowhere to go,” the captain says in that weird tone. He sounds like the most eloquent gentleman, who’s impossible to resist.
“At least one of you has manners,” she says without changing her expression.
“T-thank you,” I blurt.
“Excuse my wife.” The captain tightens his hold on my waist. “She’s not usually this way, but the gunshot has flipped our world upside down.”
“I understand.” Her gaze softens before she directs it at me. “You’re lucky to have such a devoted husband, young lady. Not many would carry another person all that distance during a snowstorm.”
My lips are parted again because they said those words. Again.
Wife. Husband.
What the hell is going on? Have I perhaps woken up in an alternate reality where the captain is my husband?
“Dinner will be ready in an hour,” Nadia announces, then leaves the room.
The moment the door closes, I feel the shift in energy and the intense scrutiny someone’s keeping on me.
I don’t dare look up at him as if I’ve done something wrong. The fact that he still has his arm around my waist doesn’t help, though.
He lifts my chin with an index finger and leans forward, so I have no choice but to be trapped in those punishing eyes.
My lips are a breath away from his, and I can’t help staring at his mouth. It’s clamped in a line, the lower lip fuller than the upper one, and his strong jaw is set.
If he inches closer, the tiny space that separates us will be gone, and I’ll get to taste those lips—
What the…
No.
“What are you doing, Captain?” I whisper so low, I wouldn’t be surprised if he can’t hear me, and for a moment, I think he doesn’t.
Or I wish he doesn’t.
Just then, his thumb and forefinger squeeze my chin until I wince.
“That’s what I’d like to ask, Lipovsky. What the fuck did you think you were doing back there? Did I or did I not tell you not to put yourself in danger?”
“I…had no other choice. He was smart enough not to have fallen for a stick or a rifle. It smelled like a trap, even to me.”
“This fucking—” He cuts himself off and breathes evenly. “You defied direct orders, and you’ll be punished for it.”
“Come on! I got us the guy…”
I trail off when he glares at me with his scrutinizing eyes. Jeez. It’s impossible to keep staring at him and not suffer an injury of some sort.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “And it’s not like I wanted to get shot on purpose. It hurts, you know.”
He releases a long breath, and I’m not sure if it’s in frustration or resignation, but considering that he releases my chin and waist, I’d go with the second.
The loss of his touch leaves me inexplicably empty as he stands up and walks to the window. His movements are light and inaudible, despite his massive build. At first glance, he’s no different than a giant cat lurking in the middle of the night, waiting for prey to pounce on.
For some reason, I feel like that prey.