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 wasn’t ready for the way my heart lifted when he said it like that. I found his hand and squeezed it hard.
In less than sixty seconds, we were checked in and shown through to a private lounge. A waiter passed me a glass of champagne. There were plates of pastries and fancy coffee machines, five different gateaux, canapes and you could just take whatever you wanted. Or I could get my nails done, or a facial.
“Would you like a massage?” asked Radimir. “Very soothing.”
“Maybe later.” I was looking at the other women in the lounge. They were all effortlessly elegant, lounging in white armchairs in flawless white travel outfits, their matching white leather carry-on bags with their gold Gucci logos artfully displayed beside them. I was in jeans, sneakers and I’d thrown my books and other essentials into a blue nylon backpack with a broken strap. “Were you serious about buying me clothes?” I mumbled.
“Of course.” He tugged his waistcoat straight. “And a swimsuit,” he said firmly.
That was the second time he’d mentioned swimsuits. No one had ever gotten excited about seeing me in one before, but there was no mistaking the lust in his eyes, and it lit a warm glow inside me. I nodded and he took my hand and led me towards the airport’s stores.
A few hours later, I was sitting in a huge, gray leather seat that turned into a bed, thirty-thousand feet in the air. Another glass of champagne was in my hand, and I was browsing the lunch menu in amazement. Did I want the pan-seared salmon with a lemon-garlic butter sauce served on a bed of lime cilantro rice? Or the honey-glazed pork chop served with mango salsa and roasted green beans?
And barely four hours after that, I was walking out of the air-conditioned airport in Cancún and into scorching tropical heat. After months of freezing winds and damp slush, it felt like heaven.
As the limo whisked us off to the resort, I stared out of the window at the ocean. I’d always figured the photos were Photoshopped but...no, it really was that beautiful cyan shade you see in the ads.
The hotel was an ultramodern block of smooth white wrapped in bands of smoked glass windows, as if someone had parked a spaceship next to the beach. But after check-in, we were taken down a winding path to a quiet glade where a handful of traditional villas looked out over their own private beach. “Will we get our own villa?” I squeaked.
Outside, the villa had white stucco walls and traditional, heavy wooden shutters. But inside it was sleekly modern, with crisp white bed linen and a wet room. I looked out of the window at the ocean, then back at the hotel where there were four restaurants, six pools and a spa. “What do you want to do first?” I asked, overwhelmed.
He stepped closer and his eyes glazed with lust. For a moment, I thought he was going to just toss me on the bed. But then his eyes went to the collection of paper bags I’d picked up in the airport stores. One bag in particular.
“Oh,” I said. “I get it.”
“You could wear it to the pool,” he told me. “Or to the beach. Or just...in here.”
I felt a smile tug at my lips. He was always so sophisticated, so in control...but when something turned him on, he transformed into a big, horny beast, and I loved him for it. “Okay,” I said, defeated. “Give me a minute.”
In the bathroom, I adjusted straps and tweaked fabric until it was sitting right. Then I put my hair into a braid, so it didn’t turn into a damp cloud if I swam and opened the door.
He’d helped me pick out the swimsuit—he’d insisted on it—but he’d only seen it on the hanger. Now he saw it on me and—
His jaw dropped. Literally dropped, like in a cartoon, and he let out a long string of Russian curses. I felt an odd swell of pride: I’d never done that to a man before.
The swimsuit was deep, emerald green but with a metallic gleam, almost like a superhero costume. It was cut just right for my curves and was fairly demure on the bottom half. But at the top, a scoop neck showed a valley of milky cleavage. Radimir’s eyes locked on the scoop neck and when I side-stepped, they followed, like they were magnetized. I burst out laughing. “You really do like it.”
He finally tore his eyes away and smiled. “Yes, Krasavitsa. I really do.” He stepped closer. “What is this?”
“What is what?”
He poked my braid. “I didn’t know you could do that.”
“You didn’t know women could change their hair?”
“I didn’t know you could make yourself look even more like a librarian.”
“I could probably do a bun, if I thought about it…” I coiled the braid into a bun shape to show him...and then stopped as I saw the look in his eyes. If I turned him on anymore, we weren’t going to make it out of the villa. I quickly let the braid fall back down. “Maybe another time.” Wow, I was learning all sorts of things about him, this trip.