Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 124077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 620(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 620(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
“Stop calling me your Bunny.”
Orlov stared at her and for several seconds there was only the distant thump of music. Then he leaned back and raised his eyebrows at me.
“Has my Bunny been a naughty girl while I was gone?”
The words sent an unpleasant little chill down Terra's spine.
“I don't know what you're talking about,” she said stiffly.
“Oh, I think you do.” He picked up his glass and swirled the ice slowly. “A large visitor came to see you recently.”
Terra's stomach tightened but she kept her expression neutral.
“I dance for a lot of customers,” she said blandly.
His eyebrows drew together in a scowl.
“Not like this one.”
Terra didn't answer.
Orlov took a sip of vodka, his eyes still fixed on her face.
“This customer of yours was large–very large. He had horns.”
Terra felt cold all over. He was talking about Taurex. But how did he know about the big Monstrum?
“If you're asking about another customer, that's none of your business,” she said shortly.
“I heard you spent considerable time with him,” Orlov continued, ignoring her. “People gossip, you know.”
“Do they?” Terra said, still trying to remain neutral.
“They do.” His pale eyes narrowed. “You know, my Bunny, I don't like sharing.”
Terra stared at him. For a moment, she wasn't sure she'd heard him correctly.
“Sharing? What are you talking about?”
Orlov leaned forward, his long, pale fingers steepled.
“I don’t like sharing my Bunny.”
The skin between Terra’s shoulder blades prickled and she lifted her chin.
“I'm not yours. I can dance for anyone I want to.”
Orlov put down his glass.
“Is that what you believe?"
Terra crossed her arms over her chest.
“That’s what I know.”
He frowned.
“You have been avoiding me.”
“No, I haven't,” Terra countered.
“You refused me last week,” he said.
“I wasn't working last week when you came in,” she pointed out.
“You were here Tuesday.”
Terra froze. Tuesday? She hadn't worked Tuesday. She had come into the club for less than ten minutes because she'd left one of her accounting textbooks in her locker after studying during a break the weekend before. She had been wearing jeans and a T-shirt. She hadn't gone anywhere near the stage.
“How do you know I was here Tuesday?” she asked.
Orlov gave her a smug smile.
“I saw you.”
“You were here?” Terra was still trying to understand.
“No…not exactly.” His smile grew but his eyes were predatory.
The cold feeling spreading through Terra’s stomach intensified.
“Then how did you see me?”
He shrugged.
“I have friends. Perhaps I asked some of them to watch over you.”
Did he have her under some kind of surveillance? Feeling sick, Terra took a step back.
“This dance is over.”
Orlov rose and reached for her.
It happened so smoothly that for a second, she didn't react. He wasn't nearly as large as Taurex—he was barely taller than Terra in her heels—but there was something about the way he moved that frightened her.
“Sit down,” she said, taking a step back to avoid his reaching hand.
Orlov frowned.
“Why, my Bunny?”
“Because I'm leaving,” Terra told him.
She turned to go but before she could, he stepped between her and the curtain.
Terra's pulse began to quicken.
“Move!” she demanded.
Orlov looked almost amused.
“Ah, my Bunny is angry.”
Terra’s jaw clenched.
“My name isn't Bunny.”
“I know,” he purred. “You are Terra.”
His words made every hair on Terra's arms stand on end. Somehow, it hadn’t bothered her when Taurex had called her by her real name, but she didn’t like finding out that Orlov knew her real name–didn’t like it one bit.
When Taurex had called her Terra in the VIP lounge, something inside her had gone warm and soft. Hearing Orlov say it made her feel cold.
“How do you know my name?” she demanded.
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he reached out and caught a strand of her long blonde wig between his fingers.
“Blonde doesn't suit you nearly as well as your real hair.”
Terra jerked away, her heart slamming against her ribs.
“You've seen my real hair?”
His smug smile had widened.
“Of course.”
“Where?” Terra demanded.
Orlov laughed–a high pitched chuckle that put her nerves on edge.
“You look much prettier without all that makeup, too.”
A sick feeling rose in Terra's throat. She reached for the curtain, but Orlov caught her wrist.
“Let go of me!” she demanded.
“Why are you frightened?” he asked. “You should not fear me–I can be a kind owner.”
Terra lifted her chin.
“I'm not frightened–I'm pissed off. Now let me go.”
Instead of releasing her, his thumb began stroking the inside of her wrist.
“But why should I let go of my Bunny?”
Terra hated the slow, intimate movement. His cold fingers made her skin crawl.
“Let me go!” she demanded again.
“Your skin is very soft,” he murmured. “I wonder if you are soft all over, my little Bunny.”
She yanked her arm, but his grip tightened.
“Let. Me. Go.” The words came out in a snarl. Terra actually bared her teeth at him. She was beginning to feel frantic. If he didn’t stop touching her, she was going to go off on him!