Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 76915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“Would you like to stretch your legs? They can bring us some food in the gazebo. It is one of my favorite spots to eat.”
I looked at him, once again surprised by his consideration. He took my hand and kissed the back of it, before adding, “I know how much you like to walk.”
I nodded and he spoke to one of the silent servants who had assembled outside to greet us. I smiled shyly at the staff. I was one of them, really. Or I had been mere days ago. But things had changed so much in that short time span. He was treating me like I was something else. Much more than a servant, or even a mistress. He was treating me like an honored guest. More than that.
He was treating me as if I was his wife.
“And eat,” he said a moment later. I glanced at him. Then I laughed. He looked so mischievous. He was adorable. He smiled back at me, looking pleased with himself.
A shiver passed through me. Anton noticed and put his arm around me. I was instantly warmer, but the breeze coming off the ocean was chillier than expected. Anton had told me on the flight over that California was gloriously sunny, but that did not make the Northern part of the ‘Sunshine State’ warm.
“Would you like a wrap?”
I nodded again and he asked a servant to fetch one from our luggage. He settled a cashmere cape over my shoulders a moment later. It matched the travel clothes I had changed into before takeoff. I marveled at his foresight. The man seemed prepared for anything at all times.
He brushed the hair out of my face and took my hand, kissing the back of it again. His touch did something so strange to me. It made me feel safe and exhilarated all at once.
He hooked my arm under his, placed my hand on top of his, and led me down a path towards the sea. The rolling lawn and herringbone brick path stretched for a long while towards the sea. It was not a short walk, and I was glad for it.
Although his jet was unbelievably luxurious, I was not a fan of being cooped up in any way. Back in Moscow I was often in our small backyard, or in a nearby park, or walking, when I was not helping Papa out in the shop, in school, or practicing my violin.
We took a wide semi-circle around the house. The landscaping here was different from the Moscow estate. Lusher, and less traditional. Less… constrained.
“Very American, is it not?”
I cast him a quick glance. How had he read my thoughts? How much could he see? How much did he know about what was in my heart and in my soul?
I could not let him know how hard I was falling for him. He already had the upper hand in our situationship. He was in control of my fate. If he knew that I was in love with him, would he lose interest? Would he take advantage of my love for him? I reminded myself that he was ruthless and cruel. Or he could be… though I had not seen evidence of it in some time.
Anton was a very bad man. Wasn’t he?
Who was he really? Who was the smiling, laughing, teasing man beside me? The man who thought of my every comfort, desire, and need, way before I had a chance to hope or dream of the possibilities. Was this the real man, hidden beneath the terrifying, but incredibly seductive, exterior? I’d always thought of him as a criminal. Dangerous. Destructive. But he had shown me that there was much more to him. More than I could have ever imagined.
“My lady,” he said with a sweep of his arm as we approached a gazebo. Servants were setting a table and preparing food on a rolling tray nearby. I climbed the steps up onto the platform and gasped.
The ocean spread out in every direction. I had known it was there, of course. You could see a swatch of blue all the way from the driveway. And yet, it had not prepared me for the vision before me. Just raising my elevation slightly had put the panoramic view on steroids. The color was different than the Atlantic Ocean, or any body of water I had seen before, I realized.
It was simply more. More blue. More wild. More free.
It was unbelievable.
He slipped his arms around me from behind as we stared out over the water. I leaned back into his warmth as he pressed a kiss against my head. How could a man who had killed dozens of people, maybe even hundreds, make me feel so safe and secure?
But he did. Somehow, he did.
“Hungry?”
I giggled and nodded yes. He took my hand and kissed it, then led me to the table, where we sat and ate a sumptuous meal of poached eggs with rich sauces, fruit, exquisitely prepared potatoes, and some smoked fish and sausage on the side.