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)
“I don’t want you to buy me gifts, Andrii.” Azelie took another step back.
The room was tiny. The entire studio apartment could fit into the closet in the master bedroom of his house—and his house wasn’t nearly as large as some of the other homes Torpedo Ink members had purchased. All he’d cared about was privacy and room for his piano and other musical instruments.
“If you keep backing up, you’re going to hit the wall. Then I’m going to come to you, and you’ll be scared all over again. What’s the point?”
“You don’t have to come to me.”
Her voice was a little whisper, a thread of sound. Her eyes had gone wide and her face pale. She really needed to stop stroking her throat with trembling fingers or he was going to pick her up and carry her to the bed he’d been all too aware of. Or just take her right there against the wall. He didn’t want to do either of those things.
Azelie deserved a courtship, getting to know him, becoming comfortable with his demands and way of life. She needed to believe that he would take care of her, do whatever it took to make her happy. To do that, to build the trust needed in their relationship, especially when she’d experienced trauma and betrayal at the hands of someone she loved, he had to take his time with her, not just jump into a demanding sexual relationship.
It was clear to him that she was very wary. He wasn’t about to lose her through stupidity by going too fast. Pushing her too hard. He wanted a lasting relationship. He didn’t know how any woman could have a relationship with him, but he was going to do his best to try to make it work.
“I would have to come to you. Haven’t you figured out yet that I can’t resist you?”
“I don’t think you’re seeing the real me, Andrii. I worry about that.”
“You’re rather adorable when you’re stalling. Come over here and we’ll talk about this, but I want to show you the things I chose for you. And no more protests. I enjoy choosing dresses and shoes for you. I know where I’m planning on taking you, and it was fun to envision what you would wear.”
Andrii poured sincerity into his voice. He was telling her the truth. He had enjoyed shopping for her. Planning dates. Thanks to Code and three weeks of shadowing her, he was aware of her schedule. The only person who could throw a monkey wrench into his plans was Alan Billows scheduling unexpected meetings at the times Andrii had chosen to take her out.
“Come on, Solnyshkuh. Come here to me.”
He kept his gaze steady on hers and saw that first moment of capitulation—that sweet surrender to his command, even though she was still wary. Still scared. She thought she wasn’t brave, but it took tremendous courage to choose building a relationship after what she’d suffered.
She’d been knocked down hard and yet she was taking a chance with him. She was leery and trying to talk them both out of it, but even with her reluctance and probably every warning bell she had shrieking at her, she came to him. She chose him. She was getting to his heart, and they hadn’t even started. The idea was terrifying yet exhilarating.
Azelie crossed the short distance and stood in front of him, her large blue eyes fixed on his as if at any moment he might bite her. He had a dark desire to do just that. Put his mark on her any way he could, brand his mark into her bones so she would know she belonged to him and never want to leave. He was shocked at the strength of his want—no, need.
Andrii wasn’t a man to trust feelings, especially ones so intense, yet the longer he spent in her company, or watching her—even the surveillance films of her—the more it felt right and necessary to be with her. He knew it was crucial to gain her complete trust, and it had nothing to do with his assignment. She was his one chance at redemption—at happiness. He knew better than to trust her, but despite his knowledge of women, his mind was already made up.
“Don’t look so leery, baby,” he advised softly. “Come see if you like the clothing I chose for you. If you don’t, I want you to tell me I got it wrong.”
He lifted a pair of blue jeans out of the box. One pair appeared vintage, a faded blue. He knew they would fit her body like a glove and should be very comfortable because he’d made certain they weren’t going to be skintight on her. They would show off her shape without making her uncomfortable. That was important to him. He put the denim aside.