Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 157450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
“Really?”
“Yes. This is the real deal. I’m seeing the world in a whole different light since I met her. And questioning my place in it.”
“Steady on.”
“No, Tom. You steady on. She needs me. It’s good to be needed, and I need her.”
“But that’s no basis for a relationship.”
I grit my teeth. “It’s not just that. You’ve fought for your country. You now run a successful business. What the fuck have I ever done?”
“Well, you’re about to take your place in the history of the Trevethick family, and preserve that legacy for generations to come.”
“I know.” I sigh. “It’s daunting, and I want someone I trust beside me. Someone who loves me. Someone who appreciates me for more than my wealth and title. Is that too much to ask?”
He frowns.
“You’ve found that person,” I add. “And you take Henrietta for granted.”
He exhales and stares down at the remains of his drink.
“You’re right,” he mumbles. “I love Henry. I should do the decent thing.”
“You should.”
He nods. “Okay. Let’s order another.” He signals to the waiter for another round of drinks, and I wonder if I’ll have to deal with this level of doubt about Alessia from all my friends…from my family.
“Make them doubles,” I call.
* * *
Alessia wakes and realizes the car has stopped. The engine is off. The lid of the trunk lifts, and Anatoli is standing over her once more. “Maybe you have learned some manners?”
Alessia gives him a venomous look and sits up, rubbing her fists in her eyes.
“Get out. We’ll spend the night here.” He doesn’t offer her his hand this time but reaches in and grabs his coat from her and slips it on. The biting wind wraps around her, and she shivers. She aches everywhere, but she climbs out of the trunk and, feeling gloomy, stands to one side, waiting for his next move.
Anatoli’s gaze follows her, and his lips press into a thin, angry line. “Feeling a little more docile now?” he sneers.
Alessia says nothing.
He snorts and reaches for their luggage. Alessia glances around. They are in a parking lot in the center of a city. An imposing hotel looms in the near distance. It’s several stories high and lit up like a Hollywood movie with the word WESTIN crowning its façade. Abruptly Anatoli grabs her hand and tugs her toward the entrance. He doesn’t break his stride, so she has to scurry to keep up.
The foyer is all marble, mirrors, and modernity, and Alessia spots the discreet sign: they are in the Westin Zagreb. Anatoli checks them in to the hotel in what sounds like flawless Croatian, and a few minutes later they are riding up to the fifteenth floor in the elevator.
Anatoli has booked them a luxurious suite that is furnished in creams and browns. There’s a couch, a desk, and a small table, and through the sliding doors Alessia can see one bed.
One.
No!
She remains standing, tired and helpless, just within the threshold.
Anatoli shrugs off his coat and throws it onto the couch. “Are you hungry?” he asks, opening the doors of the dresser beneath the TV. Eventually he finds the minibar. “Well?” he snaps.
Alessia nods.
Anatoli motions with his head toward a leather-bound book on the desk. “We’ll get room service. Choose something. And take off your coat.” Alessia picks up the book and leafs through the pages to the in-room-dining section. The entries are in Croatian and English; she scans the selections and immediately chooses the most expensive item on the menu. She has no compunction about having Anatoli spend his money. She frowns, remembering how she resisted Maxim’s attempts to pay….Anatoli has retrieved two small bottles of scotch and is unscrewing the top from each in turn. Yes, Alessia has no compunction at all. She’s a kidnap victim, and he’s meted out enough physical abuse on her body already. He owes her. But with Maxim…the balance was all wrong. She had owed him. So much. Her Mister. She lets him slip quietly from her mind, to be mourned later.
“I’ll have the New York steak,” she declares. “With an extra salad. And fries. And a glass of red wine.” Anatoli turns to regard her with surprise.
“Wine?”
“Yes. Wine.”
He considers her for a moment. “You have become very Western.”
She stands taller. “I would like a glass of French red wine.”
“French now?” He raises a brow.
“Yes.” And as an afterthought she adds, “Please.”
“Okay, we’ll get a bottle.” He lifts his shoulder in a nonchalant shrug, and he sounds so reasonable.
But he’s not. He’s a monster.
He pours both whiskeys into a glass and watches her as he reaches for the phone. “You know, you’re a very attractive woman, Alessia.”
She freezes. What now?
“Are you still a virgin?” His voice is soft, cajoling.
She gasps and feels a little faint. “Of course,” she breathes, attempting to look outraged and embarrassed at once.