Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 129980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
She sent him a small smile. “Yes, well, I doted on them but had no idea they returned the feeling.”
She took a deep breath, her gaze clinging to his. He knew her so well now that it was apparent to him she was going to give him another revelation about herself. That was her way. He gave up information and she responded in kind, not wanting him to feel vulnerable. Looking out for him. Bog, he loved that about her.
“I never feel like anyone can love the real me. Or even see the real me. It makes me feel like a fraud. I had to hide my dislike of my brother-in-law once I was old enough to realize he was cheating on my sister, doing drugs, and living off the money she made. Then there’s Billows. I’m working for a man who is part of some criminal ring. He isn’t the only one involved. He has businesses, people who pay into his accounts. Most of them are not legitimate, but I’m doing his books and not telling a soul.” She flashed a little self-deprecating smile at him. “Until you. I have no idea why or how I managed to give you the real me. I don’t know how you see me under all the layers of guilt and survival instincts I have. Of course, I think you do have a tendency to glamorize me. I’m definitely not an angel, and I don’t want you to be disappointed.”
“You don’t have to be everyone else’s version of an angel. Only mine. My angel can have a bit of a temper, not that I see many signs of it. But it’s all right with me. If you were society’s standard of perfect, you never would be able to live with me.”
“You always say the perfect thing to me.”
He was grateful she thought so. At least she didn’t think he was a controlling dictator. He spent the rest of dinner laughing with her. He was convinced she could make the mundane fun. Time was running out on him. It would be time to play with his band soon. He could see Player, Master and Keys making their way to the table.
“I’m going to give you a gift tonight,” he said. “I wrote a song for you. It’s yours. I’ll be playing it on the piano at some point.”
Her head went up, and again he got those shiny, liquid eyes. Eyes shining for him. “You wrote a song for me?”
He nodded. “Music is my way of expressing myself. I don’t want you to have any misgivings at all about the way I feel about you. I’ve never written a song for anyone else. I write music and play it, but I’m no lyricist. This is my first time writing words to express my feelings. Usually, it’s all about the music with me.”
“You’re too good to me, Andrii. I have no idea how to keep us equal in giving. I don’t have any creative talent like you do with music.”
He flashed her a grin to cover the real reaction to her genuine response. She was giving him so much already, she just didn’t know. “It could be a disaster. You might hate it.”
“I’ll love it because you wrote it for me.”
His three Torpedo Ink brothers made it to their table. He stood to meet them. “Let me introduce my lady, Azelie, to you. Babe, these are the men who own the construction company with me and are crazy music fiends, just like me.”
He indicated the man she would be familiar with. Keys gave off the impression of a stalking jungle cat, with his fluid muscles, dark hair and piercing hazel eyes.
“This is Lazar Alexeev. Do you remember him coming into the coffeehouse with me that first time? Lazar is the man who knew about the place.” He had known because he’d followed Azelie there.
Keys sent her a grin and gave her a little courtly bow. “Nice to finally meet the woman who captured Andrii.”
That sweet color slid up her neck into her face, flushing her skin a wild rose. “I don’t know that I’ve captured him, but I love being with him.”
“You took him prisoner, woman. I’m Kir Vasiliev. Known your man a long time, and I’ve got a wife who manages to twist me around her little finger. Don’t know how she does it, but I see that same look on Andrii’s face that stares back at me in the mirror when I’m trying to figure out how I got so damn lucky.”
Kir Vasiliev could be a very intimidating man. He was big with a great deal of muscle. Scarred and tattooed. He looked as if he’d been to prison, which he had, many times. Azelie didn’t look intimidated. She laughed at Kir’s—Master’s—comment. The tone was low and soft but sounded like a melody running through Maestro’s head. He reached for her hand and brought it to his chest.