Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 78264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
There’s surprise on Aurora’s face as she shakes her head. “I last saw her in your studio during training.”
Nodding, I leave the dining hall and check the armory and every other room where she might be before heading outside.
It’s only when I can’t find her that worry creeps into my chest.
She better not have left the grounds. I’ll fucking strangle her.
Going back into the castle, I walk to the security room and tell the guard on duty, “Find Abigail Sartori.”
“Yes, sir.” He pulls her photo up and starts the facial recognition software on all the security footage we have. It takes five minutes before he points at the screen. “She’s at the waterfall.”
Relieved to see she’s okay, I watch as she paints for a couple of seconds before I stalk out of the room.
Following the path beneath a canopy of trees, I hear Abigail mutter, “I’m so over my father controlling my life. I should drain his damn bank account and find myself an island where I can sip margaritas and paint the whole day. Ugh, if only dreams came true.”
There’s a twinge in my chest because someone like Abigail shouldn’t be forced to live a restrictive life.
When I come up behind her and look at the canvas, I see the image hasn’t taken shape yet, and it’s hard to tell what she’s painting.
Not knowing I’m behind her, she continues to mutter, “And Nikolai can go fuck himself sideways with his big dick. Who the hell leaves a woman while she’s still freaking riding the glorious waves of pleasure?”
“That’s what I’ve –”
My apology is cut short when Abigail spins around. Letting out a startled shriek, she throws the paintbrush at me. A light shade of blue splatters over my shirt before the brush falls at my feet.
“Jesus, Nikolai! Give me a heart attack next time,” she snaps.
Crouching down, I pick up the brush. “I’ve come to apologize.”
She takes the brush from my hand and turns her back to me while she cleans the bristles.
“Abigail.”
“I’m listening.”
“I’m sorry.”
Glancing over her shoulder, her eyes lock with mine. “Why did you run?”
Hell no, I’m not going there.
The lie falls easily over my lips, “I don’t want you to grow attached.”
She lets out an amused chuckle as she shakes her head. “Your dick might be magical, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to fall head over heels for you.”
A smirk tugs at my lips. “So we're good?”
“Yes.”
She starts to paint again, ignoring me while I watch the image of water gently caressing pebbles take shape.
Fuck, she’s talented.
The conversation is long over, but still, I find myself watching Abigail, the movement of her hand and brush soothing.
What is it about this woman that has me gravitating to her? I’m the one who’s seeking her out.
Suddenly she says, “If you’re going to stand there like a stalker, you might as well keep me company.” She continues to paint, her tone soft as she asks, “Why are you helping with the training at St. Monarch’s when you have your own business to run?”
“My godfather asked for a favor until he can find a replacement,” I explain.
I step closer and catch her scent drifting on a light breeze.
Christ, she smells mouthwateringly good.
“You’re an enigma, Nikolai Vetrov,” she murmurs, sounding like she’s deep in her thoughts. “You give off a vibe that you’re a bastard, but then I find out you can be caring when you want to.”
“Not many people would describe me as caring.” I move closer again until I can feel the energy vibrating from her, calling to me like a siren’s song.
It was only meant to be once, Nikolai. What the fuck are you doing?
Lifting my hand, I wrap strands of her silky brown hair around my finger. Her brush strokes grow slower until she stops.
“What are you doing?”
I lean down and tug at the strands for her to tilt her head back. Pressing a kiss to the side of her neck, I inhale deeply.
“Nikolai,” she whispers, her voice tight with desire. “You said it was only a one-time thing.”
“I did,” I breathe against her skin. “But then you gave me attitude in class.”
“You deserved it,” she groans as her head rolls against my shoulder.
“Hmm…” My teeth sink into the skin beneath her ear, and it draws a needy moan from her.
Christ, the sound she makes is fucking hot.
I press my front to her back, so she’ll feel how fucking hard she’s made me.
“You’re giving me whiplash,” she complains.
“I’m giving myself whiplash,” I chuckle as I slip a hand around her front. Unzipping her pants, I push beneath the fabric until my fingers brush over the manicured strip of curls between her legs. “You’re irresistible.”
Dipping my middle finger into her entrance and finding her wet for me, my lips latch onto her skin. I suck and bite until I’m sure it will leave a mark.