Total pages in book: 184
Estimated words: 188108 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 941(@200wpm)___ 752(@250wpm)___ 627(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 188108 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 941(@200wpm)___ 752(@250wpm)___ 627(@300wpm)
Yeah.
That would be kind of a big damper on any sort of relationship.
And probably end up with her in jail.
Sooo . . .
A girl could still dream, right?
Only problem was that dreams died and when they did . . . well, she wasn’t sure her heart could survive that death.
You’re stronger than this, Tamsyn.
You are not going to be brought down by your feelings.
“I’m not going to blame you if I’m hurt,” she told him.
“Do I need to start stripping you off to find where you are hurt?” he asked as he crouched in front of her.
“Um, pretty sure as my employer you can’t do that,” she said in a high-pitched voice.
Had she ever used a voice like that before? What was wrong with her?
It was these guys. When she was around them her brain turned to mush. It was like her senses went into overload.
“Technically Roman is your employer. And what if I didn’t want to be just your employer anymore?” he whispered huskily.
She froze.
Had he just said what she thought he had?
That couldn’t be true, right? She must have imagined it. She’d been dreaming about what it would be like to mean something to this man. To have him touch her, kiss her, want her and somehow, she’d just imagined him saying that.
“Um, what did you say?” she asked.
“I said, show me where you’re hurt. Now.”
Right.
See? She’d totally imagined that.
Going insane, Tamsyn.
With a grumble, knowing that his stubborn ass wouldn’t let this go, she rolled up her tracksuit bottoms, showing him her ankle. “There, see? It’s fine.”
“We need to take off your shoe so I can get a proper look.”
To her shock, he carefully grabbed hold of her foot and started to slide her shoe off.
“Um, what are you doing?” she asked, trying to tug her foot out of his hold.
“Checking your foot for swelling.”
He drew off her sock as well.
“But my feet might stink!” she cried.
He sniffed a few times. “Ahh, is that what that smell is? I wondered.”
“Hey! My feet do not stink!”
At least, she hoped they didn’t.
“I wouldn’t be so sure.”
Rude.
“Well, if they do, you should pretend that they don’t,” she told him huffily. “That would be the gentlemanly thing to do.”
“I’m not sure why you think I’m a gentleman, Malyshka,” he murmured.
She was going to have to look up what that word meant. She spoke several different languages. But Russian wasn’t one of them.
“I don’t think I’ve ever done anything to give that impression.”
Well, she couldn’t disagree.
He started drawing off her other shoe.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Your ankle looks a bit swollen. I want to check what it looks like against your other foot.”
With a sigh, she watched as he compared her feet. Then he prodded at her ankle. Which was a bit sore, although she tried not to wince. However, she must have made some reaction, because he glanced up at her with a serious look.
“You’ve twisted it.”
“It’s fine. I just need to walk it out.”
She hoped.
She couldn’t afford to be injured. That wouldn’t be acceptable.
“It’s not fine,” he countered firmly. “It’s swollen and if you keep walking around on it, you’re likely going to make it worse.”
“I really think you’re overreacting.”
“Then perhaps you should stop thinking.”
Her mouth dropped open. He did not just say that! Although she wasn’t as offended as she thought she should be.
Actually, it would be kind of nice not to think for a while. To trust someone enough to let them do the hard yards for a while.
But that wasn’t going to happen.
She couldn’t let anyone take control like that.
Although she’d thought about it at Club Slade with Salem. It would be very easy to give into his calm dominance. To allow him to take the reins.
Okay. Whoa.
You need to stop thinking that way.
“Definitely swollen and tender. You need to elevate and ice it.”
Standing, he twisted her around so she was lying lengthwise down the sofa. Then he picked up a cushion to place under her foot.
And he put another one behind her back, pushing her slightly so she was lying down.
“Um, Alexei,” she said hesitantly. “Don’t you think this is overkill?”
“No. I will get you an ice pack.” He stomped toward the door, picking up his beer and taking a swig. “Oh, stay where you are. Do not move.”
She sighed. “I’ve got to clean up all the bird poop!”
“No, you don’t. Do you need anything?”
“A drink would be nice,” she replied. She rarely drank alcohol, but if she was ever going to start then today would be the day.
He returned a few minutes later.
With a juice box.
An actual juice box.
“Um, I was talking about an alcoholic drink,” she told him.
“I don’t think that would go well with your painkillers,” he replied as he fussed with the ice pack over her foot.
“What painkillers?”
“The ones I have for you.” He held up a bottle and rattled it.