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)
She turned and walked away, now gripping Dmitri’s shirt to tow him after her. If she didn’t, the boys were liable to whip out their cocks just to see whose was biggest. Better to remove Dmitri from the temptation of poking at her brother—something he had a long history of doing, given that Cillian was living with Dmitri’s half sister. Keira held her breath the entire time, waiting for Cillian to push the subject, waiting for Dmitri to make a snide comment. But, miracle of miracles, both men stayed silent.
It wasn’t until they were in the backseat that Keira relaxed enough to slouch against the leather and close her eyes. We made it. I fulfilled my end of the bargain and no one got killed… yet. “How long until we get to your place?” The sooner they got out of Boston—and O’Malley territory—the better it would be for everyone. Even Aiden would think twice about coming to New York where Dmitri had home-court advantage.
“We’re not going to my place.”
Goddamn it, she would strangle him herself if this was yet another game. What am I talking about? Of course it’s all a game. Game playing is what Dmitri does best. She took a breath, and then another, striving to keep her reaction under control. Finally, when she was sure she could pull off the belligerent tone without the slightest hint of fear, she opened one eye. “Then where are we going?”
“A chapel.”
Dmitri Romanov didn’t permit himself to breathe a sigh of relief. This was only the first step in a path that could potentially span years. It didn’t matter. Keira was here—was his. He had time.
He watched her look around the inside of the town car, cataloging everything with those witchy hazel eyes of hers. The faint scent of pot filled the car, giving evidence to what she’d been up to when he called. The woman was a mess, but he’d known that from the moment he met her. Dmitri didn’t do projects. He preferred to be the one holding all the cards—it allowed him to anticipate how the people around him would act in any given situation.
He’d never been able to anticipate Keira. Not from the moment she picked his pocket and walked away from him as if she didn’t give a fuck about the danger he posed to her.
Likely because she has a goddamn death wish.
He’d deal with that, just like he’d deal with the rest of Keira’s issues. In time.
Right that moment, time was the one thing they didn’t have. Keira’s oldest brother would be returning to Boston within hours, and Dmitri fully intended to marry her before Aiden realized she was gone. It was significantly more difficult to oust a wife than it was a fiancée.
He had Keira now. He wasn’t going to let anyone take her.
She kicked her feet out, propping her chunky black boots on the seat. The long line of her bare legs drew his gaze up to her tiny sleep shorts. They were barely more than underwear, hugging her hips and ass. Her shirt wasn’t much better, for all that it was long-sleeved. It revealed a slice of pale stomach and was fitted enough that he had absolutely no doubts about the fact that Keira wore no bra. Her small breasts pressed against the fabric, and she shivered beneath the weight of his gaze.
Get control of yourself. He leaned forward and nudged her boots back to the floorboard. Taking Keira was part of the plan—fucking her in the backseat was not. “There’s no need for an adolescent tantrum.”
She laughed, the sound rough and pain filled. “God, would you listen to yourself? You just showed up at my window to lure me into the night—to a chapel—and now you’re bitching about my shoes on the seats? Russian, you have your priorities seriously out of order.” She flicked her long hair off her shoulder. She’d dyed it a harsh blond that seemed designed to highlight how unhealthily skinny she’d become in the last year.
She’s spiraling.
Not anymore.
“Our current situation is no reason to throw propriety out the window.” He sounded stuffy, and he hated it, but with her sitting so close, wearing clothing she’d just been sleeping in… Dmitri dragged in a breath. “Keep your shoes on the floor.”
“Or what?” She turned to face him. The move pulled her shirt even tighter against her chest, revealing the faintest outline of her nipples. Keira saw where his gaze went, and gave a bitter smile. “All the games, all the bullshit, and that hasn’t changed.” She leaned forward and hooked his collar with her finger, drawing him closer despite himself. “Tell me something, Romanov.”
“Hmm?” He dragged his gaze up to her mouth. The wicked curve of her lips was matched only by the words she threw into the space between them with such abandon. The woman wouldn’t know caution if it slapped her in the face.