Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Before she could even cross the bedroom threshold, I snatched her around the waist and pulled her back against my chest. I then growled into her ear, “Not a chance, Miss Vivian stubborn-as-hell-brat Grace Peyton.”
Her back stiffened. “It’s over, Var. There is no point in us being in each other’s presence any longer. I’ll talk with the Russian. His boss wanted the best for a reason. And a good forgery takes time. I know I can make him understand.”
“That will be difficult.”
“Why?”
“Because I have no intention of allowing you to return to forging art.”
She twisted in my embrace until she was facing me. “I’m going to ignore the allowing me part and just say that art forgery is how I make my living. And for your information, I actually help a lot of people. It’s not all gangsters and dictators.”
The corner of my mouth rose. “It’s also how you feed that incomprehensible designer purse and shoe addiction of yours.”
“Precisely. So if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to it,” she stated primly as she attempted to break our embrace by pushing against my chest.
“Oh, but I do mind,” I countered as I tightened my arms around her. “Since I will be taking care of you from now on, there is no need for you to work. I assure you, I have enough money to keep you in plenty of Gucci purses and Jimmy Choo high heels for the rest of your life.”
“Which would be a girl’s dream, if I didn’t hate your guts and had no intention of ever laying eyes on you again,” she ground out through clenched teeth.
My phone vibrated.
Keeping a tight grip on my unwilling captive, I reached into my back pocket and pulled it out. “Yeah?”
Mac said, “The helicopter is ready.”
“I’ll be down in five,” I answered, then disconnected the call.
We were taking the helicopter to our private plane hangar at Midway Airport for the New York meeting today. I needed to leave soon if I was going to make it in time.
After shoving my phone back in my pocket, I turned my attention back to Vivian. Leaning forward, I kissed her forehead. “Just pick up the kitchen phone to get the Four Monks’ concierge. Order whatever food you want from the restaurant. Oona, our concierge, can also arrange for personal shoppers from Bloomingdale’s to swing by with some outfits for you. Buy whatever you want on my account. I will be back later tonight.”
Reluctantly releasing her, I leaned over and snatched my folded blazer off the back of a nearby chair and shrugged into it.
Vivian, looking adorably mismatched in my oversized, silky basketball shorts and dress shirt, placed her hands on her hips and scowled at me. “Were you not listening to what I said?”
With my hand around the back of her neck, I pulled her in for a hard kiss. “You hate me. Yes, I heard.”
Pressing her fingertips against her now bruised lips, she arched an eyebrow. “And?”
“And… it changes nothing. The other bathroom has a Jacuzzi if you’re interested. See you later tonight.”
After another quick kiss, I headed out the door.
Anton checked his watch. “What the hell took you so long?”
Reaching for the handles on either side of the open door, I hoisted myself into the helicopter. “I had a bomb to defuse.”
Later, once we were settled in our private plane on our way to New York, I discussed the Vivian issue with Anton and Mac.
Mac leaned back in his seat. “She’s certain the man is Russian?”
Anton smirked as he reached for a breakfast pastry. “It’s not like one of us could be confused for an American.”
Despite the gravity of the situation, we all laughed. Each heavily tattooed and above average in height thanks to a childhood diet of harsh Russian winters and generations of stoic resiliency, it would be hard to mistake a Russian male for being from anywhere else but the motherland.
Mac shook his head. “I can’t imagine anyone with that amount of balls operating in our territory without our knowledge.”
I nodded. “I thought the same. Isn’t Gregor Ivanov coming into town soon?”
Anton brushed crumbs off his suit vest before responding. “Affirmative. He, Damien, and Mikhail are escorting their wives to Chicago for some massive photoshoot on Michigan Avenue. We’re providing security. Gregor and Mikhail are staying with Dimitri and Emma, but apparently Yelena wants to gamble, so she and Damien are staying in one of the club’s penthouse suites.”
I frowned. “Isn’t she the one who almost got herself killed cheating the Colombians over a gambling scheme?”
Anton nodded. “Already on it. Damien assures us she absolutely will attempt to cheat at the tables, so we’ll fill the seats with staff members.”
“Maybe Brynn could join in.” Mac chuckled, alluding to how Anton first met his girl when she’d tried to cheat at the tables.