Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
“In some cases. But not in all. You have a choice, but if you choose to stay here under our protection, that will be the last one for a while.”
One and done. “I have to decide now?”
“Yes,” all three said at once.
The impossible decision they laid out positioned her like a chess piece already in check.
“She’s tired,” Stone murmured, his honeyed voice a mocking promise of safety. “Overwhelmed.”
Ash dragged a long finger up her leg. “Why don’t we start simple, printsessa?”
“Simple, how?”
His smile was soft around the edges, nothing like Stone’s sharp grin or the chilling expression of the grizzly giant, who she now knew was Hunter. “You’re sore. Exhausted. When’s the last time you had a real meal? A hot bath? A chance to simply... breathe?”
The kindness in his voice almost shattered her carefully constructed defenses. He lulled her closer to acceptance with the promise of creature comforts.
When was the last time someone had offered to see to her well-being without expecting payment in blood or silence? Not since before her mother died. Not since the world revealed its true face.
It was transactional safety, but safety all the same—If they spoke the truth and kept their word. “Will you hurt me?”
The silence stretched.
The fact that not a single one jumped up with assurance spoke volumes. She lowered her gaze. “I see.”
Ash patted her thigh as the way a coach might tap a player’s shoulder. “Food first. Then we’ll discuss the small print.” He stood and extended his hand with the grace of a prince. “Trust me, printsessa. We only bite when it’s deserved.”
She’d suffered the undeserved consequences of countless crimes she’d never committed. What if they found out about the things she’d done to survive? Would they bite then?
What if they turned on her when she least expected it?
Instinct warned, this was their nice side, despite her trespassing. As long as she was willing to work with them, give them what they wanted, she would be safe. Safer than she had been in some time. She didn’t want to find herself on the receiving end of their anger.
“Come on, printsessa.” Ash reached for her. “Let’s take a walk—just the two of us.”
As trusting as a lamb off to slaughter, she slipped her fingers into his warm grip and nodded. He firmly grasped her hand, gently pulling her to the edge of the bed. Stone and Hunter watched as she slid to her feet.
“There’s a good girl.” Ash tucked her hair behind her ear. “Looks like you could use some first aid, too. I have just the stuff.”
Her hand fluttered to her temple where his gaze focused, and she felt the crust of dried blood. He pulled her hand away from the sore spot.
“Careful. If it starts bleeding again, you might need a stitch.”
What the hell was happening? Why was he being so nice to her?
He wove his large fingers between hers and glanced back at the guys. “We’ll be back in a while.”
Silently, she let him lead her out of the room where she could breathe a little easier. She tested his honesty by cutting right to the point. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“Turns out, I’m a nice guy.” His accent wasn’t as thick as the others’, and she wondered if Russian was his native tongue or something he’d learned through association.
“Are those men your brothers?”
“As far as you or anyone else is concerned, yes.”
That didn’t exactly answer her question. “You’re not Russian.”
“Very good, printsessa.”
“But your brothers are.”
“Correct.”
“And you’re not British.”
“Correct again.” He released her hand and pressed his large palm to the small of her back, urging her through the door of a dark room. “I’m a Volkov. End of story.”
His tone made it clear that the story was not a public one, but she imagined he’d paid his dues to adopt their last name and surrender his own. In some ways, bonds as loyal as theirs were far thicker than blood and water.
The lights flickered on, and she found herself standing in a large bathroom. “I’m afraid your sea adventures have left you a bit…odorous. There’s soap and toiletries in the drawer. You have five minutes.” He backed out of the room, and the door clicked.
She tested the gilded knob, only to find it locked. Wasting no time, she rushed to the standing shower and turned the golden handle to the highest setting of heat. Steam filled the room, and she quickly undressed.
The spray announced cuts and bruises she hadn’t catalogued. Grime funneled down the drain, and her muscles unfurled under the warm water. She didn’t have time to luxuriate, knowing Ash would be back in less than two minutes, so she quickly washed the dirt from her body and did her best to detangle her long curls—pausing briefly to appreciate the delicate citrus scent of the products. But when she tried to read the labels, they were written in a different language, with an alphabet she didn’t recognize.