Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 140940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Entering Emilio’s room, I found Kazimir in the midst of a mild tirade, his frustration amusingly directed at our wardrobe choices for the day.
Is he still mad about the baby’s clothes?
I sighed.
At least Kaz is dressed.
He wore a tailored, light linen shirt. The crisp white fabric accentuated the breadth of his bulky shoulders and the sculpted form of his torso. The shirt was left casually unbuttoned at the top, allowing a hint of his chest to show.
He’d paired the shirt with perfectly-tailored chinos in a soft khaki color. The fabric was light enough to keep him cool under the sun, yet sharp enough to uphold his polished image.
Now we have the last person to get dressed.
I gazed down at Emilio.
He was a beautiful blend of his father’s Russian heritage and my own African-American roots. His hair—a soft halo of tight curls—was beginning to transform into a blossoming afro. Each curl danced with a life of its own.
In fact, it was a wild, adorable mess.
I often found myself marveling at his hair, unsure of exactly how to tame it, yet reluctant to dim its natural beauty.
You’re getting cornrows as soon as you can walk.
Emilio’s eyes were large and expressive, mirroring my deep brown, yet there was something unmistakably Kazimir in their shape and the way they lit up with mischief and curiosity.
Even as a baby, Emilio had begun to display a blend of Kaz’s masculine features and my softer ones. His jawline, though still baby-soft, hinted at the strong lines it would grow into, reminiscent of his father. Yet, his cheeks, full and pinchable, were all softness and warmth, inviting kisses and caresses. His lips curved into smiles that could brighten the darkest rooms, a gentle feature that Kaz swore he got from me.
Plus, Emilio’s skin was a creamy golden hue that glowed from within, especially when he giggled. And those giggles were frequent, thanks to his easy happiness and fascination with the world around him.
The Lion grumbled, “This is unacceptable.”
“The shirt is fine, Kaz.”
Emilio, blissfully unaware of his father’s discontent, lay on the changing table, kicking his legs in the air and gurgling with a joy that only an infant could embody. A soft blue shirt with a cartoon shark was already on him.
Kaz growled. “Someone needs to die.”
“He looks awesome.”
Kaz sneered. “A shark?”
“You picked it—”
“Because the other shirts were rabbits, turtles, and fucking giraffes.”
“Stop cursing, Kaz, and the animal doesn’t matter—”
“Where are the lions?”
“Perhaps, the nanny forgot.”
Kaz gazed at one of Emilio’s guards. “Get the nanny. Now. Bring her to me.”
“Absolutely not.” I waved my hand at the guard. “Leave her alone. I gave her a spa day—”
“Good. Which spa? I will drown her in the—”
“Can you relax? And if you touch the nanny, then I’m going to touch you—”
“I would like that—”
“Trust me, you wouldn’t.”
“Not one lion was in Emilio’s luggage—”
“Enough about the lions. Just please, finish dressing him.”
“How could I? The Lion and the Shark? It doesn’t make any sense.” Kaz lifted Emilio and held him up to his face. “Do you see how sad my cub is about this?”
A bubbly giggle left Emilio. My baby clearly found the tone of his father’s voice entertaining.
Kaz nodded. “He is pissed. Enraged. Ready to bomb this nursery and the rest of the world.”
Emilio began trying to eat his tiny fist. Thick droplets of saliva dripped over his closed fingers, leaving a glistening line down his little wrist.
“Yeah.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “The world better watch out.”
Kaz gazed over his shoulder and yelled at another guard. “You over there. Go to the store and get me tons of baby shirts with lions on it—”
“No.” I waved the guard away. “We don’t have time. It’s already been two hours. At this rate, we will never leave the hotel—”
“But, a shark, mysh?”
“They’re known for their dominance in the water, and they are. . .relentless, powerful, and feared by all in their territory.”
“It is a fucking fish.”
Giggling, Emilio reached out his wet fist and landed it on Kaz’s face.
And just like that, all traces of anger disappeared from Kaz’s expression, replaced by a sense of playful amusement.
I chuckled. “See? Even Emilio thinks you should stop cursing.”
“Alright. Alright.” Kazimir surrendered. “Now that our little lion has splendidly defended his mother, I will refrain.”
“Cool.” I tapped my foot. “Now let’s put some shorts on him, before I leave all of you in here and go get drunk on Bourbon street.”
Kaz grumbled, “Sharks.”
I rolled my eyes and watched Kazimir effortlessly juggle putting a new diaper on Emilio along with shorts as our little guy kicked and twisted around sucking on his fist.
I should have headed off, but I couldn’t help but smile.
The Lion and the Shark.
A pang of something deeper fluttered in my chest.
Kaz was on Interpol’s list of dangerous people as well as the FBI’s Most Wanted. The world knew him as a treacherous, powerful man—the sort of powerful man that could still travel anywhere he desired regardless of what agencies wanted to lock him up because governments tended to leave people alone when they had the codes to Russian nukes and were more than willing to use them.