Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“I swear, that was it,” Marina said, her voice tight with frustration. “It was just the rubles. There was nothing else in that bag. And she didn’t send me anything else later.”
I studied her, searching for cracks, for hesitation. “Did she tell you something she shouldn’t have?”
She shook her head.
Fuck.
“Where’s the money now?”
“In a locker close to Penn Station,” she admitted. “I didn’t want to spend it in case he came after me. I was just going to give it back. Really, I would have returned it before, but I didn’t know how and—”
I held up a hand. “If you’d tried to return it in Russia, he would’ve killed you on the spot.”
“I know.” She huffed, crossing and uncrossing her arms, her frustration palpable. “That’s why I’m here. And I was doing a damn good job of staying away from all of this bullshit until you came crashing into my apartment in New York and then stalked me all the way to Chicago.”
Even now, after coming on my cock over and over, the fire in her eyes still burned.
And I fucking loved it.
Why couldn’t I get enough of this girl’s fire? Why, every time she snapped at me, fought me, pushed back, did my cock twitch with interest?
I forced myself to focus. This wasn’t just about the money. There had to be something else in that bag—something she hadn’t seen.
“That wasn’t me.”
Her brow furrowed. “What?”
“In New York. I didn’t trash your apartment. Solovyov’s men trashed it. Why the fuck do you think I’ve been so desperate to find you? I’ve been trying to tell you, you are in danger.”
She shifted her gaze away from me as she absorbed the information. If I thought I was going to get a thank you or a show of appreciation, I’d die waiting. She remained stubbornly silent.
“You might as well get some rest,” I sighed. I wasn’t ready to let this go, but I wouldn’t get anything else out of her tonight.
Her jaw ticked like she wanted to argue, but then her shoulders dropped, and she nodded. She reached for the upper bunk to pull it down.
Maybe I would’ve let her sleep up there if we hadn’t just had some of the best sex of my life.
Even if I couldn’t keep her long-term. Even if I had to go against every instinct and let her go when this was over, I wasn’t wasting the opportunity while I still had her.
I stepped behind her, resting my hand on the bunk, stopping her from pulling it down. Then I reached past her, re-hooking the latch.
“You’re sleeping with me.”
“The hell I am.” She dropped her arms and took a step back, only to hit the wall behind her.
I arched a brow. “You just fucked me, and you’re drawing the line at cuddling?”
She bristled. “It’s not the same thing,” she snapped.
I smirked. Oh, Marina.
She could fight it all she wanted.
But we both knew exactly where she’d end up tonight.
Right back in my arms.
“Good thing I’m not giving you a choice, then, huh?” I gestured for her to get onto the bed.
Marina huffed but didn’t argue. She climbed onto the mattress, pressing herself against the wall as if she could somehow put distance between us.
I might have been insulted if the bed wasn’t so damn small and I wasn’t a large man. She’d end up against me anyway. I slid in behind her and didn’t hesitate to wrap my arm around her waist and pull her against me. Her body tensed under my hold.
“You can’t—”
“Shh, moy zaichonok,” I whispered in her ear, my breath hot against her skin. “Sleep now. Argue in the morning.”
She stilled.
It took nearly half an hour before the tension bled from her muscles and she finally succumbed to sleep.
But I didn’t.
I lay there, staring at her sleeping form in my arms. My mind a battlefield of every mistake, every miscalculation, every goddamn line I had just crossed.
I didn’t deserve the peace of sleep.
How the fuck could I have done this? How could I have touched her—taken her—like I had every right to? I’d fucked up. Badly. It was my fault the Solovyovs were after her. I hadn’t protected her sister when I was supposed to, hadn’t been the husband I should’ve been.
What the fuck made me think I could protect Marina when she was my—what?
What the hell was she to me?
The girl I was fucking? No, too crude. Too dismissive. Marina was more than that.
My girlfriend? My mistress?
None of it mattered.
Because Solovyov wouldn’t see this for what it was. He wouldn’t believe this was just lust or weakness. He’d see it as an act of war. He’d assume I knew what Veronika had taken from him. That I had ordered her to send it to Marina so we could run. He’d assume I had whatever the fuck it was that he wanted back so desperately. And I knew for certain it wasn’t ten fucking thousand dollars’ worth of money. There was something more. Something hidden in that bag. Something he’d kill to keep secret.