Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 68931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
My pills. My apartment. My bed.
I focus on that as I run out onto the street and flag down the nearest cab, not waiting for my bodyguards to bring over the car. There’s no time for that, not when he might be coming after me, demanding that we continue, that I give him what he’s now given me twice. That I give him everything, my mind and body, my hopes and dreams, my very soul. The way my mother gave all of herself to my father, only to find that it wasn’t enough… that a monster can’t sheathe his fangs, not even for the one he loves.
My cab is already pulling away from the curb when Alexei emerges from the building, the look on his face matching the stark black lines of the tuxedo suit hugging his powerful body. He scans the street, his dark brows furrowed, and I yell at the driver to go faster, to step on the gas before it’s too late.
It’s not until we’re several blocks away that I realize I’m crying, the tears rolling down my face and ruining my carefully applied makeup. And it’s not until I’m at my apartment, shooing Natasha out of my bed as I frantically swallow a handful of pills, that I wonder what the fuck I’m going to do now that Alexei knows I still want him.
Now that I’ve shown him just how much power he holds over me.
Chapter 19
Present Day, Location Unknown
Dropping my gaze to my plate, I take a bite of my caviar sandwich and chew slowly, trying to focus on the rich, salty flavor of the salmon roe and the smooth, cool fattiness of the butter spread over the crisp French baguette. I try to focus on anything but the tense silence that stretches between us and the memories that intrude into it, memories that make my face burn and my heart race.
Like Risha’s premiere. Like what happened nine months ago.
Unable to help myself, I look up from my plate and meet Alexei’s gaze. He smiles darkly, and somehow, I know we’re on the same page… that his mind is traveling along the same pathway, reliving the same events.
“After Risha’s premiere,” I say, both to break the silence and because I genuinely want to know, “I was afraid you were going to force yourself further into my life. Or do something like this.” I gesture vaguely to indicate my current situation. “Yet you didn’t. You left me alone again. Why?”
He picks up his champagne glass and takes a sip. “Because you weren’t ready.” His tone is even, matter-of-fact, as if everyone knows a woman must meet certain criteria to be violently abducted. As if all of this is perfectly logical, rational.
“Ready for what?” I ask, matching his tone. “To be forced into your bed?”
“We both know force won’t be required.”
I flush hotter but maintain the coolness of my voice. “Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night.”
“I don’t plan to do much sleeping tonight.”
Damn him. The flush spreads down to my neck and chest, and my breasts suddenly feel constricted, overly confined by the bra I’m wearing. The lacy fabric rubs against my peaked nipples, irritating them, and my thong feels uncomfortably damp. Unable to bear his dark, mocking stare, I return my gaze to my plate and focus on devouring the caviar sandwich, even though food is the last thing I want.
“You asked your professors for an extension on your final papers and exams,” he says, his tone turning grim. Startled, I look up at him as he continues. “It was the worst migraine attack you’d had in years, so bad you didn’t come out of your apartment for a week after the premiere. You barely got your schoolwork done in time for your graduation.”
I nod slowly. I should be surprised or outraged that he knows, but I’m too used to his stalking. “So that’s why you stayed away for the next two years?”
He regards me over the rim of his glass. “It triggered you, our little encounter that night. Undid a lot of the progress you’d made. That’s how I knew you weren’t ready.”
“How considerate of you.”
My words drip with bitterness, but he just takes a sip of his champagne and sets down the glass, his expression unchanged. “I knew there would come a day when things would be different,” he says as the yacht pitches sideways from a particularly strong wave. Casually steadying the glass before it tips over, he continues. “I knew you would recover, and once you did, I’d be there, waiting. Not that it was easy to be patient.”
“Oh, really? You want a cookie? Should I pat you on the head for your restraint?”
A wicked smile stretches his lips. “You can pat me anywhere you want, Alinyonok. All of my heads are quite eager for your touch.”