Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“Hi,” he said, kissing me on the cheek.
Shit. He smelled amazing. How was I supposed to be careful around him when he smelled like that?
“Hey.”
“Did you get here okay? No problems from Sawyer?”
I shrugged. “One of your teammates told him we were cozy on the couch the other night, so he thinks there’s something between us.”
A smile played on Kon’s lips. “I know. He sent me about twenty texts warning me to stay away from you.”
“What did you say?”
“I told him he was overreacting.” He reached for my hand. “Want to get coffee to go?”
I looked at the chalkboard menu. “If you want to get a coffee, I’ll get a hot chocolate.”
We stood in line for a couple of minutes, and he only let go of my hand when he needed to get his wallet to pay for our drinks.
As soon as we were in his car, I put my drink in a cup holder, took a deep breath, and dove right in.
“Do you still have feelings for your ex?”
He looked over at me. “Feelings of wanting to be with her? No.”
I nodded. Kon put the car back in park.
“What do you want to know?” he asked me.
There was no tension or anger in his tone. It sounded like a straightforward offer to ask any questions I wanted to ask about her. That seemed…unusually emotionally healthy.
“I know we’re just having fun here,” I said. “And I’m leaving eventually. So I don’t really have a right to ask anything.”
“Ask me, Lucy.”
God, I liked him. There were no games. I wished I could have met him at a different time and place in my life.
“Do you miss her?”
I could tell he was seriously considering my question before answering. “I miss having someone, but no, I do not miss her.”
“What’s she like?”
“Svetlana? She is…moody. Demanding. Very strong.”
My heart raced as I held his gaze. “I’m not moody or demanding. I’m not sure about strong.”
“You have to be strong to survive in Russia. And I like you, Lucy, just the way you are. Svetlana and I did not work out, and I have moved on.”
I nodded and covered his hand with mine. “Okay. Thank you. Let’s go have some fun.”
Smiling, he backed out of his parking space and started driving.
“Where are we going?” I asked him.
“I have dinner reservations at six. And until then, how about the art museum?”
“That sounds great.”
On the drive, he told me about a trip he had taken to an art museum in Russia with his grandma, his eyes lighting up at the memory.
“It was filled with treasures,” he said. “Crowns and carriages. Things I could not have imagined until I saw them. My grandma cried because she’d never seen anything so beautiful.”
“Was it her first time visiting there?”
He nodded. “We could never have afforded a trip to Moscow before I started fighting.”
“Fighting?”
He nodded, his expression grim. “I fought to make money. It wasn’t that I enjoyed it, but that we needed the money.”
From his tone, I sensed that he thought I wouldn’t approve of him fighting.
“I understand,” I said gently. “I admire you for doing what you had to do to take care of your family.”
When we got to the museum, we walked hand in hand, admiring most of the art but occasionally laughing at our modern take on historical paintings.
“I feel this,” I said as we stood in front of a painting of a woman swooning on a couch, one of her breasts hanging out of her dress. “It’s me when I take off my bra.”
Kon laughed and gave me a questioning look.
“Underwire is a prison,” I said.
“I will take yours off anytime,” he said, his grin wicked.
I was already hoping he’d take me to his place after dinner. Detoxing Sawyer had been stressful, and I worried every day about what was going to happen with Nate. It was nice to leave those things behind, just for today, and focus only on the dark, sexy Russian offering to take my bra off.
When I looked up at him, unable to keep from smiling, he cupped my cheek and kissed me softly. It was another one of those moments where nothing existed but the two of us.
“We have to get to dinner,” he said against my lips.
“Maybe we can continue this later,” I murmured.
“Yes. We will eat quickly.”
He took my hand and we headed for his car, parked in a nearby parking garage. The restaurant he’d reserved a table at was only about fifteen minutes from the museum, and the host lit up when he saw Kon walking in.
“Mr. Volkov, welcome back. We’ve reserved our best table for you.”
The restaurant had dim lighting, candles flickering at the center of every table. The host took our coats and immediately poured me a glass of wine from the bottle chilling on the table.