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)
The whole thing played across my mind like some cheesy fucking rom-com movie, and I didn’t give a damn. I wanted it to become a reality.
The woman drove me crazy and would probably be a pain in my ass until my dying day… and I still couldn’t wait to make her mine.
I wanted to wake up each morning with her in my arms, even if it meant I had to brace myself until I learned what mood she would be in. Because damn if it wasn’t fun as hell to argue with her. The way her eyes would light up with righteous indignation. And how she’d put her hands on her hips or cross her arms over her chest, unwittingly emphasizing her fabulous curves.
Not to mention that amazingly filthy mouth of hers that would make a sailor blush and turned me on every time. There was just something about a woman who could use the word fuck as a noun, verb, adverb, and adjective.
I turned back to Mac. “Very.”
Anton leaned his forearms on his thighs as he cupped his hands. “You know, there are ways we can deal with her as a liability that don’t involve a pair of cement shoes at the bottom of Lake Michigan or even her leaving the country if she’s opposed.”
“I’m aware. Look, this is my decision. If I’ve learned anything from watching you two idiots, is that you don’t waste time when you finally find the right one.”
Mac nodded. “Maybe we could knock out three birds with one stone and make it a triple wedding.”
Anton threw his head back and laughed. “Imagine the honeymoon.”
I shook my head as I joined him. “The police would probably be called.”
Mac joined in. “And maybe the fire department and at least one ambulance.”
We were all laughing as the helicopter landed.
I checked my watch.
There was just enough time to shower and change before I tracked Vivian down in her apartment and dragged her out for a nice dinner. No doubt she’d wear one of her new Bloomingdale’s outfits, out of the small fortune’s worth she’d purchased on my account today.
I rubbed my jaw. Yup, there would never be a dull moment with her in my life.
Vivian was half correct.
I had made a copy of her apartment key when I had my staff move her car off the street. However, despite what she thought, I hadn’t actually used it yet. One more reason to find this mysterious Russian wandering my streets and to get her back to the penthouse.
I was already annoyed with myself that I hadn’t thought to put a guard on her. Apparently I was new to all this boyfriend/fiancé/future husband stuff when it came to taming a stubborn woman.
I wouldn’t make that mistake twice. From this moment forward, Vivian would not step foot outside the Four Monks without me or at least one bodyguard. Make that two.
Even though I had a key, there was no point in starting an argument, so I lifted my arm and knocked on her apartment door. Although an argument would lead to some pretty amazing rough sex, I was also starving, and we had dinner reservations.
Besides, now that I knew I wanted to make her my wife, it was past time to fuck her in my bed, not just on my kitchen floor or her apartment floor. Damn, no wonder my knees were fucking killing me.
After a moment of no answer, I knocked again.
The faint sound of music drifted through the door, so I knew she was in there. Plus, her phone’s GPS told me she was home as well.
No answer.
“Vivian, let’s not do this again. You know a door lock is not an issue for me, but I’m trying to play the gentleman here.”
At that, a door opened down the hallway and two very elegant older women stepped out. “Are you looking for Vivian?”
I frowned as the space between my shoulder blades tensed. “Yes, why?”
They walked shoulder to shoulder, clutching at each other’s forearm as they approached me. “What do you think, Barb?”
The one called Barb leaned forward and squinted at me. “I think he’s the first Russian, not the Bond villain one, Millie.”
Millie nodded. “They look very similar, but this one has longer hair.” She then directed at me, “Which one are you to Vivian? The Four Monks man, Bob, or the other Russian?”
Controlling my anger, I ground out, “I’m sure as fuck not Bob.”
Both women tittered. “Oh, I like when a man growls.”
“Especially with a Russian accent. They are so sexy.”
Forcing a smile, I said, “Ladies. Do you know Vivian? Has something happened?”
They shook their heads in unison. “We don’t know.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Which part don’t you know?”
Barb patted Millie’s arm. “I’ll handle this, dear. We both are very close to Vivian. We had dinner plans tonight—”
Millie chimed in. “We were going to Maple & Ash with the five hundred dollars the other Russian gave us.”