Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 120165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
I looked up. Oh God, he really was big: I was barefoot, under the mermaid tail, and my mouth was only just at the tops of his pecs. And now I was looking up at his mouth, at that hard upper lip and that soft, full, lower one.
He stared down at me, his eyes molten, and his hands tightened on my back, tugging me a little harder against him. This wasn’t a hug, anymore. I could feel the huge, hard muscles of his back under my palms, feel the sheer brute strength of him…
That’s when something sank in. He’d stormed out of the store and, just a few hours later, he’d come back having bought the building. That was impossible. These things take weeks, months, with teams of lawyers and stacks of paperwork. Unless…
Unless he’d scared my former landlord into selling.
For a moment, I’d forgotten who he was. Now sick fear unfurled in my chest, sending out cold tendrils. All the stories I’d heard about him: the bodies buried under his buildings. A monster. And I was in his arms.
I tensed and he felt it. His eyes narrowed for a second, possessive, and for a moment I thought he was going to trap me against him. But then his hands loosened on my back, and he gave me a tiny nod. What does that mean? ‘Yes, I’m a monster?’ ‘Yes, you should stay clear?’
I lifted one foot, ready to step back from the hug. But then I remembered the way he’d looked at me, when I’d been crying in the bookstore. He’d stared down at me, his face thunderous, and I’d felt so…. protected.
I looked left and right, along his broad chest and huge shoulders, and I realized I didn’t feel threatened. I felt safe, like I was behind a wall that could stop anything.
Radimir Aristov was a monster. But I knew, right then, that he’d never hurt me.
I looked up at his face. He was scowling again, willing me to step back. Trying to protect me from him. But I could see something behind the anger. I could feel it as a tension in his arms, like he was a half-second from pulling me in again.
He was as lonely as I was.
I stayed stubbornly where I was. I saw his eyes narrow, then flick to my lips. Time seemed to go syrupy and slow—
“I— “said Jen, throwing open the door. “Ohhh…”
I jumped back out of Radimir’s arms, forgetting the mermaid tail, and nearly fell on my ass.
“Um. I’m running out of children’s songs out there,” said Jen.
I nodded. “On my way.” I shuffled as quickly as I could towards the door, feeling hazy and muddled, still drunk on the scent of him, the feel of him.
Radimir followed and, in the hallway that led to the main store, he overtook us. “Goodbye, Miss Hanford,” he threw over his shoulder. It sounded so...final. Like I might never see him again.
I swallowed. “We should celebrate. Drink a toast to our new…partnership.” The wrong word. Or was it?
He stopped.
“Can you stick around until after the story?” I asked.
He looked back over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. Then he gave me one of his curt little nods and walked towards the main store.
“What the actual fuck is going on?” hissed Jen. “Who is he? What’s with all the Miss Hanford stuff? Were you about to kiss him?”
“The store’s not closing,” I told her, rushing through the answers. “He’s a...” —I didn’t want her to worry—“Russian property developer who just saved my ass. I like the Miss Hanford stuff, he’s old fashioned. And...” —I flushed—“maybe. Now I have to go read a story.”
Jen nodded, stunned. “Go.” Then she held up a hand to stop me. “But, um...maybe fix the seashell malfunction first.”
I looked down. One breast was fully on show, nipple and all. How long has it been like that? I flushed deeper and tugged the seashell back into place. Then I shuffled into the main store for story time...and whatever came next.
6
RADIMIR
Bronwyn’s friend had turned down the lights in the main store and the place was lit with strings of fairy lights. About twenty children were sitting cross-legged on the floor, facing a chair decorated with aluminum foil fish. As my eyes adjusted, I realized that there were parents there, too, sitting in a ring around the edge. I found a corner to stand in.
Bronwyn walked in, mermaid tail swishing. The children whooped and cheered. There were a few men in the audience, and they all suddenly sat up straight, craning for a better look at Bronwyn’s barely-covered breasts. I instantly wanted to kill every one of them.
The image of her in the hallway, with one creamy-white breast and its pink, pencil-eraser nipple peeking out over a seashell, was burned into my mind forever. As was the feel of her bare back under my hands and the warm press of her breasts against my chest. The way she’d looked up at me with those big green eyes. Scared of me, as she should be. But at the same time warm. Caring.