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)
That man could cook and he seemed to like it. She should have asked him to prepare Roman a tray. But now he was in his office and he’d said he had an important phone call . . .
Right. Why don’t you own up to the real reasons you want to see him.
One . . . she was lonely. Alexei had woken her up this morning with his mouth on her pussy.
Honestly, the man was obsessed.
She might have to look at whether there was a Pussy Eaters Anonymous that she could sign him up for.
But now he was off for a run. She should probably be trying to listen into Salem’s important call, but . . . she hadn’t seen Roman all day.
So as well as being lonely, she missed him and wanted to see him.
So here she was with her pathetic lunch as an excuse to hunt him down. Before she could fully talk herself out of it and walk away, the door to his bedroom opened.
He blinked at her as she gaped at him.
Well. Heck.
She hadn’t been expecting that.
“Tamsyn? Are you all right, darling girl?” he asked.
“Um, yes. I, uh, brought you lunch.”
“You did?” He glanced down at the tray she held like he’d never seen a sandwich before.
“Yes, but I’m just going to take it back to the kitchen and get something else.”
“Wait!” he called out as she turned away.
She spun back and the glass of juice that she’d poured him and very carefully carried up the stairs went flying. Juice landed everywhere, including on his very white shirt.
“Oh no! Oh shit! I’m so sorry!” She took several steps back out of habit, gaping at his shirt in horror. “Sorry. So sorry.”
“Tamsyn?”
“I can’t believe I did that. I’m normally so careful. And now it’s on your shirt and on the carpet. Oh God! It’s going to stain the carpet. This is the bird poop incident all over again!”
She headed toward the stairs. She needed to get some cloths to clean that all up.
How old was the carpet? Probably ancient and worth a fortune. She really couldn’t be trusted with stuff this expensive and precious!
“Tamsyn, hey, stop!” A surprisingly firm arm wrapped itself around her waist as she reached the top of the stairs, pulling her back.
She stiffened and he quickly let go. But he kept one hand on the small of her back. A light touch that let her know he was there without trying to hold her or trap her.
Taking a deep breath in, she let it out slowly. “I just acted like a complete idiot, didn’t I?”
“Well, just a bit of a nutter,” he said. “Turn around. Please.” She turned and he took the tray from her. “Follow me. Please.”
Hmm. He said please all polite like and in that posh accent of his. But it was clear that it really wasn’t a request. And she found herself following along obediently.
“I need to clean up the stain on the carpet,” she said as they walked into his office and he shut the door. It was clear that his office was actually the main bedroom. His office was the private living room that was attached to the bedroom.
His bedroom was the biggest in the house with tall ceilings and an actual mural painted on the ceiling. The first time she’d entered his bedroom, she’d laid down on the floor for twenty minutes and stared at it.
She really wasn’t the best cleaner. Speaking of which . . .
“The longer I leave it, the worse it will get,” she said, turning back toward the door. What was she doing?
“Stop. Do not leave the room.”
She froze.
“Thank you. Now, come back here. And stop worrying about the carpet staining. That carpet has been absorbing and hiding stains since well before our grandparents were born.”
God, it was really old.
“Are you sure? It won’t take me a moment.”
“How were you planning on getting the stain out?” he asked.
“Um, by, uh, dabbing at it with water?”
Roman shot her a look. “Pretty sure I can do that. I’ll need to do that for my shirt, anyway.” He set the tray on a coffee table that sat in front of his sofa.
She loved that sofa. It was wide and soft and when you sat in it, it kind of swallowed you up. Nothing like the stuffy furniture that was found throughout the rest of the house.
“I’m so sorry about that. Here, let me take your shirt. I’ll clean it up.” Without thought, she reached for his top button and started undoing them.
“Uh, Tamsyn,” he said.
“I’ll soak it and uh, I don’t know, look up what you do for orange juice stains. There has to be something.” She started pulling off his shirt, tugging it down his arms.
“Tamsyn,” he said sharply as she finally got it off.
“Yes?” she asked, looking up at him.