Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 140940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Emilio gazed around at everything.
I grinned.
My baby is already a jetsetter.
I moved my view to Paolo. He had those big eyes popped open looking around the space too.
Max took me out of my enjoyment. “I don’t think my nephews should come with us to Delphine’s.”
“She wants to show them the garden.”
“Em, you need to understand how dangerous this woman is.”
I stiffened. “I know she is, Max. She’s got you spooked, and it takes a lot to scare you. Not to mention the fact that she is always several moves ahead of us, like when she called me when I was about to call her.”
Max shook his head.
“But more important.” I sighed. “Delphine thinks she can fix my cracked mind. That means she must be some kind of fucking sorcerer. I can rock with that.”
Kaz made it to us.
Emilio saw me and whimpered.
Kaz landed a kiss on his cheek and shushed him. “You will be with her soon, but you are with daddy now.”
Still holding Tisha’s hand, Paolo pointed to the right. “Plane, mysh!”
“Yeah. Big planes.”
Grinning, Paolo nodded.
Kaz shifted Emilio to his left arm and draped his massive arm protectively around my waist. “How are you, mysh?”
“Nervous, but ready.”
“Good.”
We all headed over to Rafael.
I knew the moment, Kaz spotted Rafael. His body stiffened against mine and a groan of annoyance left him.
I placed a fake smile on my face. “Remember, we’re not in Russia. We need to make nice with the Comedienne. Alright?”
Kaz grumbled something unintelligible under his breath.
Maybe, I should figure out the Squishy Spider.
Soon, we all made it to Rafael and stopped three feet in front of him.
Tension thickened the space.
An amused expression spread across Rafael’s face. “Here we are.”
I quirked my brows.
Rafael dramatically gestured to me, twirling his fingers and bowing. “The Mouse.”
Ummm. okay.
I nodded.
“And the Lion.” Then, with a sudden and forceful outward movement, Rafael extended his arms and slashed his fingers through the air like some violent cat swiping at an intruder. A half growl, half chuckle left him. “Roar! Roar!”
I widened my eyes.
What the fuck?
Paolo quickly left Tisha and got next to me, hiding behind my leg.
Kaz narrowed his gaze at Rafael. “What do you think you are doing?”
Rafael stopped chuckling and placed his hands in his pockets. “I am merely lightening up the mood and providing a comical sign of respect—”
“You are scaring the kids.” Kaz glared.
“Well, that is not my intention.” Rafael took one hand out of his pocket and headed over to Paolo. “Hello, I am—”
“Do not touch him!” Kaz’s face shifted to the look that told me he wanted to slap someone. Thank God he was still holding Emilio.
Rafael stepped back. “Sorry.”
I cleared my throat. “Thanks for the welcome, Rafael.”
“I am glad someone appreciated my performance.” Rafael did another dramatic bow. “Anyway, I am here for you at all times. In fact, I am your tour guide through this lush paradise of cultural mystique and—”
“Get in the fucking car and take us to Delphine!” Kaz roared.
I took Paolo’s hand and scowled at Kaz. “The kids are here, baby.”
Kaz lowered his voice. “He is an idiot. He is lucky I have not shot him.”
“Apparently, the long flight does not have everyone in the best mood.” Rafael brushed the front of his jacket down. “Let us embark on this—”
Groaning, Kaz guided us away.
I glanced over my shoulder and saw Rafael shrug. “Thanks, Rafael.”
Then, I turned back to my stubborn lion. “Kaz, you’re supposed to be on your best behavior.”
“That was my best behavior.”
Max muttered behind me, “Squishy Spider, Em.”
Chapter six
Mean-Mug
Kazimir
The journey from the airport to Delphine’s property was nothing short of breathtaking.
I found myself in the back of our SUV, drinking the vibrant landscape of New Orleans.
The city was alive and breathing beneath the sultry Louisiana sun.
Outside my tinted window, a symphony of colors and sounds. Jazz notes floated from the corners, blending with the chatter of locals and the ever-enthusiastic tourists. Whimsical architecture greeted my eyes. I guessed it was a unique blend of Spanish, French, and American styles.
When we entered the French Quarter, Paolo climbed onto my lap. With his little finger, he pointed at things rushing by the window.
It shocked me to no end how comfortable Paolo was getting with me.
He turned my way and switched to Italian. “Where are we, lion?”
My heart warmed at his calling me lion. “We are in New Orleans?”
He batted those lashes as if trying to figure out in his head where that would be. “New. . .Orland?”
“New Orleans.”
He turned back to the window and swept his curious gaze over everything. “New Orleans.”
You’re just like your father was at your age. Always so curious and excited.
We continued down the narrow streets. Wrought-iron balconies teemed with a wild mix of greenery. Colorful buildings—most of them two and three stories high—stood at odd angles.
It must have been crazy for Paolo to leave the snowy streets of Moscow and arrive here. I was sure he had never seen anything like it.