Total pages in book: 172
Estimated words: 155984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Flambé did like Ania and would regret not really getting to know her. She’d never really had the chance to form any friendships, and Ania was the same. Working at the Amurov estate had allowed Flambé to see Ania often and she was beginning to think of her as a genuine friend. Ania popped in with tea or she would call her on the intercom, asking her to come out to the garage where she was working. Ania was designing a car, working on an engine and building it herself. They would sit together, Ania talking excitedly about some new breakthrough while Flambé listened, happy for her.
Flambé was grateful Ania didn’t ask her questions about Sevastyan. She didn’t know how she felt about him and their relationship. It was complicated. Sevastyan was in charge inside the bedroom or outside of it, no matter what he had said. He was the one in charge and that was very clear. She was used to being her own boss, used to a tremendous amount of alone time. Now she had very little, and truthfully, she found that difficult. She had thought to consult Ania, who seemed happy with Mitya, but now it wouldn’t matter.
“Is Mitya Amurov more difficult than Sevastyan?” Rory asked, his eyebrows going up.
“I never said Sevastyan was difficult,” Flambé denied. “I said this is my business and he works for Mitya. Don’t try to put words in my mouth.”
Etienne gave an undignified snort. “Sevastyan Amurov has a reputation, honey. Even you can’t pretend he doesn’t. I can’t imagine that if he thought Little Miss Strawberry and her children were some kind of setup to harm you he wouldn’t be cutting them off and putting them in some interrogation room none of us know about.”
A chill went down her spine because she had a feeling that might be just a little too close to the truth. “Fortunately, she isn’t a plant and there wouldn’t be a reason for her to set me up. He has no interrogation room. I know because I’ve thoroughly searched the house for hidden passageways, and in any case, she isn’t his business.”
She had searched the house for hidden passageways. There were many. She hadn’t found an interrogation room but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one. That was one of the things about Sevastyan that worried her. He could be very cold. She had seen him that way at the Amurov estate more than once. She’d seen him that way at the club. That was scary to her. She was an emotional person. People mattered to her. They mattered a lot. She risked her life helping them. On the other hand, she knew that side of him appealed to her leopard. It was such a two-edged sword being a shifter.
Her arms itched and she rubbed her skin, glancing up at the sun. Sometimes if she was in the sun too long, she could burn fast and the itch was horrendous. Her legs itched as well and she rubbed her thighs, trying not to squirm. Blaise watched her closely. Not only Blaise, but his leopard, as if both were worried.
“You should probably go up to the house,” he suggested.
That suggestion set her teeth on edge. She was getting very tired of men ordering her around. She was getting tired of men in general. All of them. Even the three she was sitting with. And if the itching and sudden burning sensation along her nerve endings didn’t stop, she was going to scream.
“Do you have the photograph of Shanty on you?” Etienne asked.
Flambé nodded, refusing to clench her teeth. She didn’t look at Blaise. Instead, she unzipped the pouch on her belt and pulled out a picture of a strawberry leopard and three younger leopards trailing after it. Then a second photograph showing a woman with short red hair and two little girls and a boy, all holding hands and staring into the camera. All three men leaned into her to study the photos.
Rory’s shoulder brushed her arm, sending small electrical charges zinging through her bloodstream. Etienne leaned across her body and his shoulder touched her breast, the merest brush, but her nipples felt as if they’d burst into twin flames, so hot they’d melt through the material of her work shirt. Her breath caught in her throat and she had to bite down hard on her lower lip as Blaise put his hand on her leg, higher, toward her thigh for balance as he leaned in to look at the photos. His palm felt hotter than hell, an inferno traveling up her thigh to center between her legs in a burst of fire so hot she thought she might go insane. She could only breathe through it and hope no one noticed.
Blaise pulled his hand back and once again his gaze moved over her. This time speculation was there and she feared he had much more knowledge than she did—or the other two men.