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)
Sophia and I worked hard side by side cataloguing specimens while Maxim and Liam studied test tubes. It wasn’t until we were a full twelve hours into it and Professor Morozov ordered us dinner that I finally, finally made the breakthrough. Markov was just outside the door, taking a call.
“Markov. Oh my God. Markov,” I say, my voice wobbly. My eyes are somehow a bit misty, and I’m so overcome with emotion at what we’ve finally done. “You won’t believe it.” I sniff hard. He shoves his phone in his pocket and takes both of my hands in his, all ears.
“Yes? What is it, love?”
He plays the part of a doting husband so damn well. Too well.
I swallow and lick my lips. “I figured it out. I finally found a way. It’s absolutely groundbreaking.” I’m trembling with the enormity of what I discovered. “You know how if you plant marigold flowers around a flower bed, it serves as a natural barrier to pests and insects and even woodland creatures like deer?”
He shrugs and shakes his head. “I did not, but go on.”
I can’t help but giggle a little. He really is outside his sphere of knowledge and is totally comfortable with owning it. And I love that. I love that he isn’t threatened or intimidated by me.
“We can develop crops with a similar approach. Natural deterrents to biological threats or air-borne illnesses. It’s basically like building a bubble around certain areas that would be otherwise compromised and endangered. This is. . . this is huge.” I swallow against the rising lump in my throat. “I mean, we knew this, but what we developed in the lab today has the potential of increasing our speed of application by like tenfold. We’re only in the beginning stages, but. . . but we did it.”
I squeal when he lifts me straight off the ground and tosses me in the air before he catches me and spins around right there in the open. Some onlookers chuckle.
“Amazing, Vera. I’m so damn proud of you. I knew you could do it. I knew you could.”
I nod, still a bit tearful. “I know,” I say, swiping at my eyes. “I know you did, which is why I’m an emotional basket case right now.”
No one has ever believed in me the way he does. Even my mother, who adores me to pieces and is always my biggest cheerleader, often lets her own fears get in the way. “Now, don’t get ahead of yourself,” she’d say, or “Let’s take one thing at a time.” But I pushed past the cautionary words and fears. They seem far away now, unable to hold me back.
He pulls me into a big hug, so warm and reassuring I want to stay here forever. I breathe in his familiar masculine scent and let myself sink into the strength of his embrace. “And I’d bet it’s no coincidence that you didn’t have to wade through the arrogance of a certain American to get there, mmm?”
I giggle against his chest.
“Um, can you put me down now so I can save face?”
“Of course,” he says, immediately complying while he whispers in my ear. “I’ll give you that out here. But when we’re alone, little girl. . . you’re Daddy’s.”
Gah. Is swallowing your own tongue a thing? Because I’m choking on literally nothing.
“Are you needed back at the lab?”
“Not today,” I tell him. “Morozov dismissed us.”
“Excellent. Why don’t we go back and you can call your mother and tell her the news?”
“Yeah,” I say softly. “I’d like that.”
Could the man be any more perfect? Of course he knew the next person I had to tell was Mom.
Perfection. Science tells us it doesn’t exist, that it’s only a figment of our imagination and yet my romance-lover’s heart dares to hope.
Back in the room, I let Markov check everything to make sure we’re safe and half-expect he’ll find something. “Coast is clear.”
I hear footsteps behind me and look over my shoulder to see Jake scurrying past us. His hands are shoved in his pockets, and his head is down; he doesn’t even look my way.
I wonder if Jake will pose a problem anymore. I suspect not.
“Did you find out anything about the picture of the front of the room?” I ask Markov.
He shakes his head. “No. We haven’t been able to identify a source.”
“Ah.”
I close the door behind me and remember what he told me last night. I remember his promise.
I swallow hard.
When your work is over. . . we’ll have a talk.
My work is over. . . what will that talk entail, and why does my heart threaten to leap out of my chest?
“Here,” Markov says, handing me my phone. “Before you and I pick up where we left off, call your mother.”
Gah. Whyyyyy did he do that to me?