Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Taking her hand, I’m annoyed by how cold her soft skin is. The streaks of blood peeve me too.
“You’re not a bother, and I insist you stay.” I press my thumb on her palm.
She tugs her hand free and frowns. “No. I’ll be fine.”
I reclaim her hand, wanting that zing of attraction to light me up again. That jolt that hit me at first contact. “I insist,” I repeat, catching the first flicker of her submission as she studies me with a mix of confusion and alarm.
5
LILIANA
“You insist?” I ask, praying my cheeks aren’t giving away too furious a blush. I can blame it on the cold, on crawling through the snowbank built up near the edge of the driveway. Windburn, even. Deep down, though, and in the back of my mind, I can’t deny that I’m flushing because of this man’s intense study of me.
Because of how he’s watching me with a hunger I’ve never witnessed before, as if I’m a marvelous gift he can’t wait to unwrap and explore.
Tall, with dark-brown hair and faint lines bracketing his eyes and mouth that put him at least twice my age, he holds my gaze until I can’t break it. Confidence rolls off him without a word, and I’m captivated. I can’t look away, warming up second by second under the startling power of his good looks.
Carved from stone, all hard lines and quiet authority. It’s a lot to take in, but I feel every bit of it, even under his suit. I lick my lips, unsure whether his darkening eyes mean he doesn’t care for me challenging him or he’s just baffled that I’d question whether his insistence holds any sway over me.
“Yes.” He tugs slightly on my hand. “I insist.”
He pulls me forward when I try to yank my hand free, heat rushing through me at the realization he’s been holding it this long.
I open and close my mouth, slowly following him as he addresses the other man. “Viktor, prepare for her to stay.”
The older man nods once and turns to leave us.
“Wait. I—Who, exactly, are you?” I ask. He’s so bossy, but I think he’s concerned, too. He must be one of the Sokolov men, stationed to winterize this humongous mansion, probably.
“Anton,” he replies, glancing at me as he guides me through the house.
Okay. That doesn’t help me, though. Assuming he’s just another one of the many men who work for the Sokolov Family, I sigh and realize he’s taking it upon himself to be in charge.
“Nice to meet you,” I say, on edge with how quickly this evening has shifted.
I was stressed and distracted on the drive I thought might soothe me.
Then thrust into an adrenaline rush of crashing my car.
Now I’m a guest in this massive home that belongs to the family of a man I never, ever want to see again.
“Are you sure it’s okay if I come in and wait for reception to kick in so I can get a ride?” I ask.
“I’m sure,” he says, leading me up the stairs.
“Just like that, huh?” I quip.
Slowly facing me as we walk up to the second floor, he seems to fight a smile. “Just like that.”
If I make a fuss because I’m worried Roman could find out I’m here, this whole thing turns into a disaster. For now, I can let this man call the shots. Then, as soon as I can, I’m gone. Roman doesn’t need to know.
“You can stay in here, and I’m sure Viktor will find you something warm to change into.” He opens the door to a guestroom. Ironically, it’s the one I stayed in before, when Roman said I was snoring and keeping him awake in the room we were supposed to share down the hall.
I should’ve taken that as a sign. All those signs. How he wouldn’t want to share a bed with me and made up the stupidest excuses. Looking back now, I see how I missed the clues.
He was sleeping with Maeve for a lot longer than they’re letting on.
I sigh, hating how blind I was. Maybe if the bakery’s demise wasn’t weighing on me for so long, I would’ve been more aware of how far back Roman had strayed from me. But that goes all the way back to when we first met. His infidelity isn’t a recent thing.
“What’s that for?” Anton asks, still with me and bringing me to the bathroom.
“What?”
“That sigh.” He nudges me to sit on the vanity, patting the edge.
I hop up and watch him begin to clean off my hand. “It’s just a sigh.”
He arches one brow, glancing at me as he tends to my wound.
Which is…nice.
Nicer than Roman ever treated me.
“I, um, it’s been a long day,” I say, partly to be polite but mostly because I don’t want him to stop talking to me.