Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 100416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“Maybe I like the burn.” Her smile never wavered, even as her attention shifted over his shoulder to where Ivan watched them avidly.
“Mmm.” He leaned closer to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “And maybe I am going to cut that fucking dress off you tonight.”
“Ah-ah, Russian. You’re showing your beast. Rein it in.” Her grin brightened, and she lifted her voice. “Who is this delightful creature? Sir, you look like the proverbial Russian bear that I hear wanders Siberia.”
It was official. He was going to kill her. The little rebenok had known if she showed up late, she’d tie his hands. He couldn’t drag her out of the room to change without broadcasting the fact that he didn’t control his wife. This man might be a friend, but he’d take that information back to the men he answered to, and it would be nothing good for Dmitri. And even if Ivan didn’t stab him in the back, he would tell Kirill and Sasha, and they’d made their alliances clear.
The only course of action was to move through the meeting while acting as if he wasn’t torn between wanting to turn her over his knee and wanting to fuck her against the wall. Both. I want both. And, damn her, Keira knew it.
Ivan walked over, his bushy eyebrows raised. “Charming creature, aren’t you?” He took her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckle for a full three seconds too long. “I am desperately in love with my Natasha, but if I were a younger man and single, I would steal you away, married to my cousin or no.”
“It seems I’m not the only one who’s charming.” Her laugh boomed out, sounding happy. Keira cast a glance over him that was just shy of an invitation, but then shook her head in mock sadness. “But I’m afraid it wouldn’t happen. My Dmitri keeps me more than satisfied.”
My Dmitri.
It was an act, but the words still rang through him. If he had his way, his wife would have already been satisfied several times over today, but the only person who knew it hadn’t happened—wouldn’t happen—was Keira.
“My Natasha would like you, I think.” Ivan gave Dmitri a lingering look.
“I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
He transferred that look to Keira. “You should. Excuse me.” He headed back to the bar and poured himself a double.
The night was going nowhere fast. Dmitri had expected some rebellious act, but this was… something else altogether. Keira allowed him to take her hand, her dress shifting around her. Her pale skin shone beneath the black beading, and his attention was drawn back to her nipples again and again.
“See something you like?” she murmured.
Yes. He hated it, but he also fucking loved that dress. He wanted her to wear it for him at a private dinner, where he could touch her, could drink in the sight of her, without eyes on them. The fact that there were eyes on them—on her—had him speaking without intending to. “You look like a high-class sex worker.”
“Isn’t that exactly what I am?” Her smile never wavered, and she didn’t look at him. “You might not have paid in cash, but you bought me all the same.” With that, she expertly detached her hand from his and moved to perch on the single chair next to the fireplace. “Ivan, you must tell me how you met my darling husband.” Her hazel eyes twinkled, and he almost believed the lie in every line of her body. “I’m sure you have some hair-raising stories to share from his formative years.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Keira had been under the impression that this was a meeting with several men, so she’d been surprised when it quickly became apparent that Ivan was the only one who showed. That had to sting, Russian. Apparently, Dmitri wasn’t as all-powerful as he would have liked if he couldn’t compel family members to come to something that should have guaranteed attendance.
Layers within layers there. The O’Malleys didn’t have much interaction beyond their immediate family, but Keira’s father had only ever wanted Boston. He wasn’t interested in spreading his empire beyond the city, though he would have liked to take the city entirely. The Romanovs were different. From what she gleaned of Dmitri and Ivan’s—blessedly English—conversation, the Romanovs were the big players back in Russia, and they had representatives of the family in several of the big port cities in the US. Dmitri in New York, Ivan in Texas, Kirill in LA, and Sasha in Seattle.
Finally, Ivan checked his watch and rose. “I must be going. My Natasha gets irritated when I’m late.” He waggled thick brows at Keira, making her laugh. “She’s far too good with a knife to risk displeasing, no matter how enchanting the company.” He took her hand and pressed his lips to it, releasing her almost instantly, and then turned to Dmitri. “I wish you and your bride the best of luck, and a long and healthy marriage.”