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)
“Markov,” I choke out.
“What?”
“Why did you say that before I called my mother?”
A corner of his lips quirks up, and he shrugs. “Because I know exactly how you’ll respond, and I want you to remember who you belong to.”
“Even when I’m on the phone with my mother?”
“Especially when you’re on the phone with your mother. Your mother will praise you and tell you what an accomplished woman you are. And while that praise is well deserved, you were the one who told me you like the idea of putting things down for a while. That you don’t always want to be the strong, powerful, in-charge woman.”
I swallow. “Right.” I dial my mother. It’ll be lunchtime back home. Nostalgia hits me in the chest with a wave of homesickness.
She answers on the first ring.
“Vera?”
“Mom! How are you?”
“Oh, it is so good to hear your voice. I know you’re busy, but I miss you so much. Thankfully, Markov’s been keeping me updated, so I don’t have to bug you too much.” She laughs.
I stare at Markov. “Markov’s been keeping you updated?”
What?
“Oh, yes. He texts me every day just to tell me how things are going. He said you were on the verge of a breakthrough. Something to do with. . . I could only follow so much. . . using crops or something to prevent. . . something.”
I smile and shake my head at him. “Yes, exactly, and Mom, it’s big news.” My voice gets a little husky again because this is so monumental for me. “We did it. We figured it out.”
Her whoop is so loud in my ear I have to hold the phone at a distance until she settles down. Markov and I grin at each other.
“Oh, Vera, I knew you could do it. Knew it! Markov did, too. He said he had total faith that you would persist until you figured it out.”
I swallow. “He. . . did? Oh.”
For the first time in my life. . . I have a little circle of support. I’m not even sure how to handle the surge of emotion.
“Tell me everything,” Mom says. I’m grateful for the chance to pull myself into facts and out of the emotions that threaten to choke me.
I tell her everything, and while she probably only understands about twenty percent of what I say, as usual, she’s attentive and curious.
“Oh, Vera,” she says. “Your grandma and I are so, so proud of you. You’re going places, sweetheart. You watch and see.”
Heh. I try not to think about the fact that the next place I’m going is probably right over Markov’s lap.
Double gah.
“Now, I want you to tell me about other things.”
I look up at Markov, who’s sitting on the edge of the bed, his strong, sturdy hands braced on his thighs. “Mmm?”
“You and Markov. How is our Jason Bourne?”
I look Markov straight in the eye while I respond. “He’s bossy as hell. Kind of old-fashioned, too. Thinks he knows everything. And he won’t even let me walk in our room—I mean my room—without checking to see if it’s safe first.”
My cheeks heat. I’m thankful my mom is thousands of miles away and can’t see how beet-red I am. If she caught that little blunder, she doesn’t let on.
“Of course he is. Men like him would be, you know. They always would be.”
I wish Markov wasn’t here right now. I’d want to talk to her. . . honestly. Woman to woman. About everything.
Mom, why am I capable and independent but crave his dominance?
How can I justify being a woman in modern-day and still allow him to tell me what to do?
How do I make peace with what my body wants and what my mind knows is right?
And most of all. . .
How can I love a man who’s forbidden for me?
But I don’t. I don’t ask her any of these things and just assure her that I’m fine.
I assure her Markov is.
I tell her I love her and that I can’t wait to come home.
“Stay close to him, sweetheart. Your father has made many mistakes in his life, you know I believe that, but appointing Markov as your bodyguard was one of his better decisions. And on that note, Vera. . . you and I need to talk.”
Why do those words never fail to incite fear in me?
“What is it? Is everything okay?”
“Yes, yes, don’t worry. It’s just that your father called. He said that there’s a benefit in Moscow this weekend, and he wants you to attend. Now, I know how you feel about him—”
“No, Mom. We had dinner with him recently, and it was a disaster. Ugh. I hated being around him. He is so full of himself! Besides, I don’t have time to go to a benefit.”
I feel guilty hearing her sigh on the other end of the phone.