Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 142043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
She shudders, still shaken by her encounter with Anatoli.
What had he been thinking?
While out in the streets of Prizren, she’d found herself glancing over her shoulder several times, a sense of unease settling in her stomach.
Was she being watched?
No. It was just her imagination.
She shuts down that idea, and her mind flits to happier thoughts—her fiancé, recalling him in his shirtsleeves earlier this afternoon. While she’d been in Kosovo, and much to her surprise, Maxim and Thanas had helped her father clear the garage where the Demachis were to host the wedding celebrations. Her dad, with Maxim’s help, had driven the three Mercedes he usually kept locked in there to his repair shop in town. When he’d returned, he and Maxim and Thanas had continued to empty and tidy the garage in preparation for the tent that will arrive in the morning. The plan is to erect it in front of the garage, making a larger entertainment space.
When Alessia and her escort had returned from Kosovo, Tom had rolled up his sleeves too and joined the men. While they cleared the outside, Alessia and her mother had begun the mammoth task inside of cleaning, cleaning, and yet more cleaning.
Alessia had managed to slip out in the late afternoon to the local clinic. After a brief conversation, she had persuaded the doctor to prescribe the contraceptive pill. She’d only just made it to the pharmacy with her prescription before it closed, and she’d been relieved not to recognize anyone there. She’d rushed home to continue cleaning, and no one asked where she’d been. Later, when her period started, she’d been able to sneak upstairs and take her first pill.
Early evening, Maxim had appeared in the kitchen, his shirtsleeves rolled up despite the cold; he was dirty, his color heightened, and his hair damp with sweat. He looked… hot.
Manual work suits him.
He’d given her a quick kiss that made her long for more before heading to the shower.
Maxim in the shower.
Closing her eyes, Alessia turns onto her side, and her mind conjures a fantasy that she’s in the shower with him. They’re in Cornwall, at the Hideout, and Maxim is soaping her body while they stand beneath the cascade, getting wetter and wetter. Her hand travels down her body, becoming his in her thoughts as she hears his voice.
Do you want me to wash you all over?
Her breath quickens, and she tugs at her nightdress so the hem glides up her thighs. As her hand slips between them and starts to move, she rolls onto her back.
She remembers his skilled hands slick with soap on her breasts, then sliding over her belly and slipping down to the apex of her thighs. Her desire unfurls in a rush that stiffens her nipples against the soft cotton, but she imagines them hardening between his lips and against his stubble, then teased by his teeth.
She groans.
In her mind, he kisses her neck, a sound of approval resonating deep in his throat.
Mmm-hmm.
His words fill her head.
You’re so beautiful.
She gasps as her hand picks up speed.
Faster. Faster.
You like?
And she’s hanging.
Nearly there.
I want to try something new. Turn over, he purrs in her ear.
Alessia comes. Hard. Fast. And she gulps in a lungful of air.
And as her equilibrium returns, she thinks perhaps now she’ll sleep. She curls up as her lingering sense of pleasure and wellbeing starts to fade, and her thoughts intrude once more.
Tomorrow the garage setup will be finished, but there’s more cleaning and cooking to be done. So much cooking. And the party favors to put together: sugared almonds in tiny cloth bags. Fortunately, her extended family are eager to help—the menu and who is making what were set when they visited yesterday. A chef will be on hand to assist them on the day.
Will Maxim be happy with the arrangements?
O Zot! She hopes so.
She knows this isn’t the wedding he wants.
But he’s still here, he hasn’t left, and he’s proceeding with the ceremony for her sake—but also for her mother’s. Alessia opens her eyes and stares at the ceiling again, her fingers finding her gold cross once more as her anxiety flares like a flame.
Her mother, who wants to stay with her father.
Will she be okay?
Having observed them for the last few days, her mother and father seem to have reached some kind of accord. It’s strange to witness. Maybe her mother was right—he seems… kinder. Maybe Alessia leaving was what they had needed. Perhaps she had been the object of strife between them.
After all, she’s not a boy.
The thought brings a lump to her throat.
All this time, had she been the one who stood in the way of her mother’s happiness?
She’s your problem now…
A tear trickles down the side of her face and into her ear.
This idea is too much to bear alone.
She tosses her sheets aside and climbs out of bed. Hastily grabbing the little dragon, she makes her way to the door. She thinks it’s about two in the morning, but she doesn’t know for sure. She tiptoes out of the room, silently closes the door, and stands in the hallway where all is quiet, as her parents went to bed hours ago. She moves noiselessly to the stairs and heads down two floors. Alessia doesn’t care that she might wake him when she steals into this room, because right now, all she wants, all she needs, is Maxim.