Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Could it be his baby sister Seri, whom Sergei openly doted on?
Or perhaps it was none other than Elsa Nilsson herself, who had the longest sort-of-relationship with the billionaire?
It could only be one or the other, the women thought enviously.
But they were wrong.
THE SCENT OF THE SEA teased Fredericka’s nostrils as she made her way to the last vacant lounge chair while a gentle breeze played with the loose locks of her hair behind her back. It was the height of summer, and she was lucky enough to spend the holidays here in Teleios, a Greek island that had recently dethroned Ibiza for being the world’s most famous party paradise.
A weekend in Teleios should have meant a beach romance. It should have meant having a summer fling or even a summer one-night stand.
At this point, Fredericka would have taken any of it, but reality offered none of those choices. A waiter approached her, bearing a tray of drinks, and she gratefully accepted a glass of Shirley Temple. It was easier to look cool with a drink in hand, and right now she desperately needed to look really cool.
It was already the second night of Legal Fun 101, a lawyer networking thingy that she had forced herself to attend. Now that Fredericka’s days as state’s attorney were over, she needed to search for colleagues to partner up with, and Legal Fun 101 should have helped with that.
But it hadn’t.
Two nights of networking translated to six meals’ worth of bonding and countless hours of semi-communal living, since they were all staying at the same private resort.
And yet—-
“Everyone grab a partner,” the event host called out with drunken cheerfulness. “It’s time to party!”
Fredericka managed to stop herself from wincing even as all the other lawyers excitedly left their lounge chairs and stools. They headed straight to the open space in the middle, which she now supposed would serve as the dance floor.
Or dance sand, Fredericka thought unnecessarily. Whatever. The point was, the host either didn’t know how to count or he had a really poor memory.
This event was called Legal Fun 101 for a reason, and it wasn’t just because the seminars included 101 lessons on networking. It was also called that because there were exactly 101 lawyers present.
101.
Which meant, odd number.
Which meant, someone would be left behind without a partner, and that would—-
Not be me, Fredericka thought determinedly as she swiped her phone from the tiny table next to her lounge chair. Lifting it up over her face, she began typing fast.
There’s a difference between having no one to dance with, she told herself, and choosing not to dance because you’re busy texting.
She was the latter, obviously.
Fredericka: Hey, what’s up?
Sergei: About to meet someone.
Sergei: As for you...
Sergei: Shouldn’t you be dancing now?
Sergei: Says so in your itinerary.
Fredericka: We don’t have an itinerary.
Sergei: You do.
Fredericka: And even if we had one, how would you know what’s in it?
Sergei: Magic.
Fredericka: HA!
Sergei: It comes in various currencies.
Fredericka: Oh my God, can everyone be bought now?
Sergei: Da, pchelka. Shouldn’t you have accepted that by now?
Fredericka: CYNIC.
Fredericka: There’s still hope for humanity, you heartless billionaire.
Sergei: How can you say that when right this minute I am actually spending my precious time humoring this woman who has no friends?
Fredericka: I have friends!
Sergei: Your cousin and former therapy-session-partner do not count.
Fredericka: They’re still my friends, and what do you mean you’re humoring me?
Sergei: You only text me out of the blue when you don’t want to look like a loser.
Fredericka: Well, sorry if we can’t all be the life of the party like His Ego-ness.
Sergei: Ya znayu ob etom.
I am aware of this, Fredericka translated. Her Russian had improved by leaps and bounds, mostly thanks to the times when the billionaire was acting all mysteriously brooding. In those instances, he would insist on talking to her only in Russian, and conversely he’d only pay attention to what she was saying if she answered back in Russian.
He was a perverse jerk, in other words, but because he was also one of the few persons she couldn’t live without, she had just let it go.
Well, that and fact that it was also sort of cute that the normally mature Sergei Grachyov had a secret childish side to him.
Smiling, she typed her answer to the billionaire. You could have just typed IKR.
Her phone vibrated a moment later, with Sergei’s concise answer making her accidentally laugh out loud. He had simply typed, IKR.
She suddenly pictured the powerful-looking billionaire saying IKR in that wonderful accent of his and bit her lip hard. It would be like a Russian James Bond saying...BRB.
Fredericka bit her lip harder at the thought. Damn you, Sergei Grachyov. The man had to know that his answer would have her in stitches, just as he knew how much she hated it every time he could make her laugh silly like all those foolishly infatuated girls that followed him everywhere.