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 also why she looked horrified when Nadia told her I carried her all the way here. Or maybe that had to do with how she called me her husband a couple of times.
“Now, put in the other hand.”
She begrudgingly complies. “I can do it on my own.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you insisting on helping?”
I pull up the strap of the nightgown that’s been subtly teasing me for the past twenty minutes.
Goosebumps erupt on her skin, and she goes still. She even stops breathing for a second too long.
A devilish thought sparks my mind. I wonder if she’ll tremble if my hand innocently touches her breast.
I only have a side view of her face, but the more my hand lingers on her skin, the longer she holds her breath.
After a quick thought, I remove my hand.
While it’s fun to toy with her, the way she’s holding her breath may cause complications.
Slowly, her chest rises and falls in a harsh rhythm as she snatches the belt of the robe and ties it around her waist.
“Are you mad about something, Sasha?”
She whirls around and stares at me with that stupefied expression. “Why are you calling me that?”
“Everyone in the unit does. I assume it’s your way of relating to your true name more, yes?”
“I never said you could use it.”
“Never said I couldn’t.”
She narrows her eyes as if I’m next on her shit list, which wouldn’t be a surprise, considering all the whiplash I must’ve been giving her.
Sasha hasn’t been with me long enough to know that my actions turn unpredictable when I’m in a situation that I haven’t anticipated.
“You might want to control your expression. Our hosts are already suspicious of you, and we don’t want them to kick us out in the middle of a storm, now, do we?”
She opens her mouth to say something, but she quickly thinks better of it and clamps it shut.
When she slowly walks to the door, I block her way. She subtly pushes back, but I can see the slight jerk in her shoulders before she schools the movement.
“Now what?” she asks in a careful tone.
“Now, I need you to be natural. No jerking or acting uncomfortable. Remember your favorite married couple and act like them.”
She pauses for a moment, then nods once.
“I mean it, Sasha. If we’re kicked out of here, I might be able to get through the storm on my own, but you won’t survive.”
“Got it. Natural.”
It’s far from a good sign that she even needs to say it out loud, but if there’s anything I trust about her, it’s her strong determination to survive.
Someone else would’ve lost the battle during the time it took me to get here.
She didn’t.
Despite the fever, she held on to life with everything in her.
We leave the room side by side, and although she attempts to seem strong, Sasha walks slowly.
I grab her by the elbow for support, and she starts to wiggle free, but I shake my head.
Her struggle wanes, but she breaks eye contact. Almost as if she’s avoiding me.
Well, well, well.
Once we arrive in the living room, Sasha stops to inspect our surroundings.
The space is small but has character. A vintage green sofa and matching chairs form a circle. A plant with small white flowers sits in the middle of a glass coffee table. There’s also a dark green antique teapot and two cups.
The couple obviously loves green, because their carpets and wallpaper also have green in them. Even the mantle over the fireplace that’s blazing with the wood I chopped for Nicholas yesterday has Russian dolls dressed in green sitting on it.
Upon seeing us, Doctor Nicholas abandons watching a rerun of an old show.
He’s older than Nadia and has a wrinkled face but a surprisingly straight posture for someone his age. He’s not overweight like my father, who wheezes and turns blue after walking a few steps.
“Do you feel better, child?” he asks Sasha.
Her expression softens as she nods. “I do. Once again, thank you so much. I’ll make sure to repay you one day.”
He throws up a dismissive hand. “There’s a saying I believe in. It’s about doing good and forgetting about it.”
“We’re still thankful, Doctor,” I say.
“It’s Nicholas, I tell you. Come, come, sit by the fire.”
“I’m going to see if Nadia needs any help.” Sasha starts to walk, but the woman in question appears in the kitchen doorway.
“Nonsense. I need no help. And what are you doing out of bed?” She fixates Sasha with a stern motherly expression.
“I can move.” Sasha pulls from me and does a small turn. “It’s good to walk around instead of staying in bed all day, right?”
“Not if you strain yourself.”
Sasha completely ignores her and steps toward the kitchen, a small smile painted on her lips.
This girl obviously knows no fear, or maybe it was purged out of her.