Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94678 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94678 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
As beautiful as the dress is, with the electrostatic precipitator being installed next weekend, and my earnings and tips this week not taking me close to half its purchase price, I must be cautious with spending on Mikhail’s behalf.
It is easy to be overgenerous when you think you’re about to inherit five hundred million dollars.
“Not yet,” I answer, drawing Loretta further into the dark. “Are you sure this is where he placed my belongings?” Under the assumption his contract was over, Kolya returned to Moscow three days ago. The house staff has been in disarray ever since. Kolya is stern. He runs a tight ship. I don’t see Zelenolsk Manor maintaining its pristine condition without him.
“That is where Kolya told Charles to place your belongings. It should be there.” Loretta rummages through a handful of dusty boxes before sneezing. “Perhaps I should call Kolya and ask him?”
“No,” I shout, a little too loudly. I startle Loretta. “It has to be here somewhere.”
I grunt in frustration not even five minutes later. The dress bag is nowhere to be found, and my allergies will give me grief for a month if I don’t leave the attic immediately.
Seconds after leaving the attic, I brush dust and cobwebs out of my hair and off my sweater and jeans before assisting Loretta in doing the same. She’s not wearing jeans, but it is harder to tell which silver strands on her head are cobwebs and which are gray hairs.
“If you come across it, can you please call me?”
When she nods, I recite my cell phone number before thanking her for her help with a smile. I may not have gotten what I came here for, but Loretta has been nothing but kind to me.
As my feet tap the pristine floorboards on the grand staircase, my phone rings. I smile while staring at the image flashing across the screen. Mikhail’s eyes are brimming with lust, but he looks content. Almost at peace.
That’s why I’ve kept quiet on Andrik’s secret for the past week. Mikhail is almost ready to handle the fallout of my confession, but he isn’t there just yet. His ego is still frail from the years of torment and abuse he endured after we broke up, and I need it at its full strength before going at it with a sledgehammer.
After taking a moment to admire Mikhail’s delectable features, I slide my thumb across the phone screen and press it to my ear. “Miss me already?”
Lynx rostered me off today because some of the other bartenders were getting crabby about the slimness of their tips on the nights Mikhail and I work together. Mikhail would have had something to say about it if I had told him. Instead, I made out I had stomach cramps and would rather spend my night in bed, recovering.
Mikhail looked set to join me until I dry heaved.
He was out the door fast, and I traced his steps only minutes later.
No wonder I couldn’t find the dress. Its disappearance is my punishment for being a liar.
My heart warms when Mikhail answers my question. “Is the sky blue?” I listen for the noise of chatty patrons at Ember’s when he adds, “It isn’t the same without you at Ember’s.” I learn why I can’t hear anyone when his laughter is chopped up by the high-powered revs of his engine. “So much so, I’m playing hookie. Wanna join me?”
I almost shout yes until I remember how slow the cab driver was. Anyone would swear he was paid by the hour instead of the mile. I will never make it back to Mikhail’s penthouse before him.
“Um.” My gag is brutal. It almost makes me puke. “I’m still not feeling the best, so maybe you should—”
“You don’t look sick,” Mikhail interrupts, his tone somewhat stern but still playful. “You look mighty fine to me.”
My eyes shoot in all directions before they land on the camera in the far corner of the foyer. “Are you spying on me?”
“There’s no such thing as spying on your wife.” My anger crumbles away during his last word. I love when he calls me his wife. “Protecting them, yes. Taking care of them, also yes. Spying on them… no such thing.”
“Mikhail—”
“Get your ass outside, Ember, before I remember how your mother never spanked you, so you’re more turned on by the thought than scared.”
Excitement blisters for half a second. Confusion swallows it. “You’re here? At Zelenolsk?”
His hum vibrates through my body before clustering at my clit. I’m so excited to see him again that I sprint through the main entryway doors, uncaring I am about to be called out as a liar.
As I reach the covered driveway, I sling my eyes to the left before veering them to the right. I’m seeking Mikhail’s motorcycle, so it takes me longer than I care to admit to find him at the end of the lot, leaning against a flashy red sports car.