Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
I adjust my suit and walk around to her side of the car and open the door, where she’s still pouting. But gone are the days when she’s opening and slamming doors herself. No, now she expects me to open them for her. Progress.
I hold my hand out to her, and she takes it and steps out. She’s breathtaking. I will never tire of watching this beautiful woman in her tight dresses and skirts and icy gaze.
She tries to remove her hand from mine, but I tighten my grip as I thread my fingers through hers. The action doesn’t go unnoticed by her men, who glance at one another skeptically.
“Yuck,” she spits. “I didn’t take you as the overbearing type.”
“One of us has to make up for your prickly presence,” I say, unfazed as I walk us through the entrance. The hostess greets us, and when her gaze lands on Anya, she turns a paler shade. Anya has that kind of effect on people. It fills me with pride.
The hostess escorts all four of us to the private space where my men are waiting. The chatter grows quieter as they nod to me respectfully but stare at her suspiciously. They know how dangerous she is and what happened with Igor as a consequence of him underestimating her. They advised I cut all ties and do my business in her territory without her permission. But it’s not just her permission that I need; it’s access to her auctions as well. I need to prove to her I can ensure they’ll have a consistent income by partnering with me, more than just with a monthly auction. It’s just a perk in addition to everything else I’m willing to offer her in the process.
Patrons fly or send people from around the world to come and bid at the Ivanov auctions. And she doesn’t let just anyone in. She is very selective, and the only ones I know are Dawson Taylor and Crue Monti.
On top of that, I threatened if any of my men were to so much as attempt to lay a hand on her, I would not only kill them but their families and anything or anyone they ever loved.
Michael stands as we get closer. The table is already filled with food and liquor.
“This doesn’t look like a business meeting,” Anya says as I pull out her chair, which is next to mine at the head of the table.
“It is. Just be patient,” I tell her.
She says nothing as she takes her seat. Anya’s men stand behind her near the wall, looking stoic and broody as usual. The server comes over with more food and places it on the table as I reach for the bottle of wine and pour myself a drink. Grabbing the water, I pour her a glass and place it in front of her, remembering she doesn’t drink alcohol. “What do you want to eat?”
“Why, do you plan to hand feed it to me?” she asks, lifting a perfectly manicured brow.
“Do you want me to?” Because I will if it means I get to play with those lips. I’ve touched her other lips, so it’s only fair I touch the other set, right?
“Give it a try. Let’s see how many fingers I can remove with my teeth,” she snarks back. I smile, transfixed by her. I want to bend her over and punish her. My cock grows uncomfortable at the thought.
I lean over and say against her ear, “Maybe we should finish where we left off last night.”
Her hand slides over to my thigh under the table, and she offers a promiscuous smile. “You want me to fist your cock right now in front of all your men?”
Her hand is a feather touch against my cock, but it’s enough to cause splitting pain through my jaw by how hard I clench it.
“Don’t you want to fuck me, River? The contract’s almost fulfilled. This will be your second meeting. Now all you have to do is actually fuck me,” she says sweetly, but with a hint of venom. The atmosphere shifts, as it always does with this dangerous woman.
“Sir, we expect your guests to join us in ten minutes,” Michael interrupts as I trail my fingers over her smooth skin, causing goose bumps to erupt in their wake.
“Thank you, Michael,” I grit out.
Her gaze is hooded as she stares at me.
“I don’t want to eat this,” she says, gesturing to the plateful of food. “I’m hungry for something else.”
“I won’t fuck you yet,” I say, because, fuck me, if she isn’t everything I want. If I give in to her now, let her win this challenge, she won’t return. If I let her think we’re about nothing but sex and business, she’ll be done with me once the debt is paid in full. I want to brand her as mine for the rest of her days, but this newfound discipline of mine is grating on my nerves, and she knows it.