Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 76915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
I wondered, not for the first time, if I could have a tracker put into her uniform. Or her shoes perhaps. Or a piece of jewelry?
I had a bizarre need to know where she was at all times. I was more than a little bit obsessed. I had experienced a much less intense version of this with new interests growing up. I was able to hyper focus to the extent where I forgot to eat or drink. But it had never happened with a person.
Nothing like this.
This wasn’t about being the best at a new skill. I wanted to know everything. But it was a soul deep yearning combined with a fire in my belly that was anything but spiritual, not an intellectual, clinical urge to direct and conquer.
I did want to conquer her, though. Not just when playing chess, which she was surprisingly skillful at. She had even beat me a time or two during our nightly games. That may have been due to my very pleasant fantasies that involved undressing her slowly, then laying her down on the rug in front of the fireplace and having my way with her.
I poured myself a glass of wine and contemplated my progress. Mishka still feared me, but not as much. She had gotten good news about her father’s condition recently, which I already knew as I was in close contact with the old man’s physician, but her eyes had shone when she told me over a game the night before.
The strange sensation in my chest as I watched her face light up had taken me completely by surprise. It was a mixture of awe and tenderness. Her happiness did something unexpected to me. It made me happy.
And knowing the part I had played in bringing that happiness about made me feel good.
I wasn’t sure I had ever felt good before.
She was softening to me, slowly but surely. Like an untamed falcon, I was slowly training her to my hand. She would be mine, whether she knew it or not.
“Your guests have arrived,” Linski said with a bow.
“Show them in,” I said.
“Directly to the dining room?”
“Yes. I will be there in a moment,” I said, sipping my wine and staring into the fire. It was getting cooler outside at this time of year, and the house was not draft in the slightest. Not that my home ever felt truly warm, either.
I had never experienced true warmth. Not until the moment Mishka had brought me a glass of mineral water with a slightly wicked, but also genuinely concerned, gleam in her eye.
I would never let anyone tell me to do anything, least of all a woman. Not my father. Not even my brothers, though I would take it under advisement if they both had strong feelings about something. But somehow this one small girl had altered my habits, simply with her gentle, feminine influence. I had not drank vodka in weeks. My brothers were confused by this, but stopped offering after the first few tries. The smell of it was unpleasantly strong to me now. Acidic. Toxic.
Red wine alternated with mineral water had become my drink of choice. Coffee and juice in the mornings. And a healthy diet. I had put on a bit of weight, even with my early morning workouts, but it looked good. I looked alarmingly healthy.
A good sexual release with my little dove and I could be in the best shape of my life. And if I could hold her in my arms every night… go to sleep and wake knowing that she was mine? I would be unstoppable.
I finished my wine and headed to the dining room to greet my guests.
Chapter 14
Mishka
Iwas standing at attention when the men entered the dining room. They looked around, then honed in on me. One of them titled his head, staring. I swallowed nervously.
The other men grunted and sat down. But the tall, well built one stared, then walked forward.
“What have we here?” He said in a suggestive drawn-out tone. I stepped backwards, my shoulders bumping into the wall. There was no where to go. He smiled suddenly, looking very sharklike.
Looking a lot like the way Anton looked at me sometimes, actually.
I felt Anton enter the room. The temperature changed. I was looking down, not daring to make eye contact with the stranger. The man was standing so close. Too close.
“Sergei,” Anton drawled. “Can I help you with something?”
“Hmmm. Perhaps,” he said. Then he laughed. “After dinner.”
He turned around and shook hands with Anton. Then he took a seat directly across from me and continued staring.
“She’s not on the menu,” Anton said, sounding more than a little bit menacing.
“That’s a shame,” Sergei said. But he continued staring. “Everything is negotiable.”
“Not everything. Move o.”
Sergei nodded thoughtfully but he was still watching me, his finger stroking his chin.