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)
I crook a finger at her. “Come here,” I instruct softly, my voice laced with feigned calm, for her sake.
Vera hesitates, her body trembling, her eyes wide and haunted. She’s shaking like a leaf. Rage simmers within me, ignited by the invasion of our privacy and her reaction, but I push it aside.
This is a good opportunity for me to take the next step with her.
Stepping forward, I pull her into my arms, mindful of her delicate, much smaller frame against my larger one. She fits almost perfectly, like a missing piece I hadn’t known I needed. I cup the back of her head, my hand large enough to cradle it and envelop her in a chaste hug. I want to be a barrier against the chaos of the world. “I promise you, Vera, you’re safe. No one’s going to hurt you. Can you trust me?”
Her eyes, wide and searching, meet mine. The flush of pink in her round cheeks speaks volumes of how she truly feels. “I don’t know if I have a choice?”
“You always have a choice. But listen, you are exhausted. Go get ready for bed and I’ll take care of things here. I’m going to barricade the door and make some phone calls. Everything is going to be alright.”
Her eyes linger on mine for a moment longer, as if searching for reassurance, then slowly, she nods. “If you say so. This is your job, after all.”
It is. It so fucking is.
When she goes to the bathroom to dress, I move our luggage and place the dresser in front of the door. The windows don’t really concern me because they’re too small for anyone to get in.
Who was it? Who is in this room? I check both of my phones. I hate this dual identity, but it’s what I have to do for now.
Aleks: How are things?
Someone broke into our room when we were at dinner. No idea who it was.
Are you fucking kidding me?
We need surveillance
Aria and I are on it.
Is everything OK at home?
Great. Sasha started walking. The twins are lifting their heads up now. Polina’s planning her graduation and causing mayhem as usual. Mom is already planning the next gala. We have a lead on donations for it
The pang that hits my chest takes me by surprise.
I miss everyone at home. Who knew I’d be homesick?
Every year, my family hosts a large gathering, and we invite the most distinguished people we know. We raise millions of dollars for charity, solidifying our place as upstanding members of society.
I’ll scout some artwork in Russia while I’m here.
Mom will love that. How’s your charge?
Beautiful. Brilliant. Fucking perfect.
She’s fine. Mouthy, but I’m not gonna put up with it.
Of course not. You know I’ve been there. You need anything, you know where to find me.
I tuck my phone away and text the Ivanov captain.
There was evidence that our room was broken into while we were gone.
There’s no response. I wait. And wait. Sons of bitches.
I put both phones away just as Vera enters the room.
“So why don’t you just. . . forget about what I said I wear to bed earlier.”
Ah, that’s right. She said quite a few things when she didn’t know I could understand her, didn’t she?
Now she’s wearing sweats and a tee.
“So you lied about what you wear to bed?” I stroke my chin. “You aren’t allowed to lie to me.”
Her back is to me while she puts her clothes away so I can’t tell if her cheeks have colored.
“We’re sharing that bed tonight, Vera. I don’t care about sleeping on the floor, but I want to be sure I’m right next to you in case anything happens.”
“Good. That’s fine. We can …do this, Markov.”
We can do this.
We can sleep next to each other and not fuck each other? Yeah, we can.
Still… I remind myself that seducing her would get me closer to where I need to be.
I remind myself that her father brought devastation upon my family with the sole purpose of destroying us.
I remind myself that my loyalty is to the Romanovs. . . my family. And only my family.
I remind myself that if I fuck her, I’m sleeping with the enemy.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Vera
“Bed,” Markov snaps, as if the fact that I’m not currently deep in the throes of REM sleep is a personal affront to him.
“Bed,” I agree, shaking my head at him. “Will you relax already? Also, if I’m wearing clothes to bed, so are you.”
“I am wearing clothes, woman.”
I’m holding my own. “If you don’t put a shirt on, I’m stripping.”
My cheeks color. No way, no how am I going to strip, but if he calls me on my bluff—
“Fair enough,” he grumbles, walks back over to crumpled clothing, and tugs his tee back on. Argh. I wanted him to get a clean one since he’ll likely—yup. I knew it. As soon as he gets near me, his scent from earlier clings to him.