Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
My romance lover’s heart thumps. This is a dangerous place to be, but I can already see the dining hall and Irina waiting for us. We don’t have any more time.
“Deal.”
“Vera! Markov! I hope you got some rest,” Irina says, greeting us at the door. “We’re still waiting for a few guests, but please go on in and introduce yourselves.”
Markov opens the door and rests his hand on the small of my back. He leans in and whispers in my ear, “Remember what I said about the American and about behaving yourself. I expect an obedient wife, Vera.”
I discreetly stick my tongue out at him and relish the look of challenge in his eyes. If he thinks he’s going to tell me what to do, he can think again.
If I behave myself, he might stop threatening me. But a girl needs to live a little. He can’t actually touch me, so I’ll have my fun.
Jake stands beside a tall, lithe man with short silver hair. When I realize who it is, I forget all about Markov and tamp down the need to fangirl. I want to pinch myself. The man beside Jake is none other than Dr. Antoly Morozov, the scholar I’ve idealized since grade school. When he sees me, he smiles widely in greeting.
“Welcome. You must be Vera Ivanova. And this is. . .”
“My husband, Markov.” Markov and I shake hands with him.
“I’m Professor Morozov,” the professor says, extending his hand. “Allow me to introduce the rest. Liam O’Sullivan.” He points to another tall man with fiery red hair who looks friendly enough, but I notice a guardedness in his posture. Maybe he’s just a reserved Irishman.
“Sophia Lang.” A petite woman with jet-black hair and striking blue eyes. Despite her delicate appearance, she seems to carry herself with confidence. “So nice to meet you,” she says in a clipped accent.
“And Maxim Smith.”
A blond man with wire-rimmed glasses extends a hand to me.
“Hello! Are you also American?”
He shakes his head. “My mother is Russian, and my father is American, hence my name. But I’ve spent most of my life here in Moscow. “
Markov nods. “As did I. Whereabouts?”
They continue their discussion in Russian, and I’m glad Markov might have at least made an acquaintance. His presence here seems natural, which makes me want to breathe a sigh of relief.
Jake sidles up next to me while Irina pours wine and Markov is busy talking to Maxim. “I thought your husband didn’t speak English?”
“Of course he does. He’s just a man of few words.”
Still, Jake regards him warily. “I’m glad you’re not alone. It can be lonely out here without somebody’s company. Especially when we get to the fieldwork.” Markov looks over at us.
I don’t respond because I’m not exactly sure what to say to him, but apparently, Markov does. He leans over and rests an arm on the table beside me. The scent of the woods and spice somehow reassures me. “She most definitely won’t be going alone on fieldwork.”
“Is that allowed?” Jake asks, undeterred. He takes a sip of wine and keeps his face impassive.
Markov doesn’t respond, but he looks like he wants to deck him. Professor Morozov smiles and holds his glass of wine up in a toast. “Absolutely. My own wife occasionally accompanies us as well. With today’s political climate, I think we’d be wise to bring a bodyguard-type with us, don’t you?”
While everyone else laughs, I nearly choke on my wine. Markov, however, only winks at me. It appears he has a charming side he’s been hiding all along.
Can they all know who he really is?
But how much do I know?
CHAPTER SEVEN
Nikko
I listen as Vera makes small talk with the rest of the group. Her latest peer-reviewed published research is the topic of conversation, thanks to Dr. Morozov. She’s amazing to watch. Not only is she well-spoken, she’s intelligent, obviously driven, and charismatic. I doubt she even realizes she’s the center of attention; she’s so focused on and passionate about what she’s talking about. Though it’s a small group, she quickly becomes the epicenter of it while everybody else fades away.
I love how avidly she speaks about her work. I understand most of what she says, but only peripherally. When she dives into the details of it, I’m a little lost. So is the American pretty boy, though he tries to pretend he isn’t.
The only time Vera’s confidence wavers is when someone brings attention back to her and not the actual subject of the research. It seems as if she will talk about her field all day long but can’t stand too much attention on herself. She bites her lip and flushes a bit pink.
I want to excuse her from this situation. Tell everyone she has a headache or whatever and needs to sleep. Thank them for their hospitality but tell them it’s time my wife got some rest.