Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 68102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
“Sofia, where do you want this?”
She startled, glancing up at Colm. A frown of concern scrunched his forehead as he watched her cautiously. He was so large that he dominated the small storeroom. It should have frightened her, having someone so big in such a tight space with her. Especially as no one else was around. He could do anything he liked.
But it wasn’t the size of someone that made them a bully. And Colm had never once tried to harm her. He’d never once grown angry with her.
In fact, he’d been nothing but kind and caring.
“Sofia, what’s wrong?” He stepped forward and she took a hasty step back.
“Oh, nothing,” she said with a smile. “Just daydreaming.” She half turned. “If you could just stack it on top of this one, that would be great.”
Colm frowned. “If I put it up there, you won’t be able to reach inside.”
“That’s okay. I’ll use a step stool.” Being five-foot-one meant she had quickly gotten used to climbing up and down step stools to reach things.
“I don’t like that idea.”
“What idea?” she asked, confused.
“The idea of you having to use a step stool. You could fall off.”
Holy heck.
It was ridiculous, yet so darn sweet, that she almost teared up. Why did he care so much about her safety?
“Your cousin shouldn’t allow it,” he added stubbornly.
And now that warm feeling was gone. The man was impossible.
“You really think Aleksandr should ban me from climbing step stools?” she asked incredulously.
“No,” he said, his Scottish accent growing thicker.
Lord, a Scottish accent was hot.
Colm often popped into Solynshko for dinner or a drink. And sometimes, when he talked to her, he’d let his accent slip free. Sofia liked to think it was because he felt relaxed around her.
However, that was probably wishful thinking.
“Good,” she said. He must have been joking.
“I think he should ban you from climbing anything at all,” he added.
Or he was just batshit crazy.
Sofia placed her hands on her hips. “From anything at all?”
“Yep.”
“Have you lost your mind?” she asked.
He stepped closer to her. “Have you lost yours? You shouldn’t be carrying around heavy crates. Or using step stools that you could slip off. Oleg needs to take better care of you.”
Oleg? Take care of her? Ha, that was a laugh.
Oleg only knew how to take care of Oleg.
And the less she saw of Oleg, the better. All he gave her was pain.
“Why do you look like that?” Colm demanded. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong. Why would anything be wrong?” she asked with a false smile.
Sofia turned away toward the door. She had to get away from him before she lost what was left of her control and threw herself at him.
And confessed the whole truth.
That she hated Oleg.
And wanted Colm.
2
Colm’s anger stirred as she turned away from him.
He reined it in. Barely.
He wasn’t angry at her. Not really. It was at the fact that she thought she had to lie to him.
Colm hated secrets.
Of course, he held a number of them. Things he could never tell anyone. But that was different. Those were things he had to keep secret.
They were all about business.
Sofia was pleasure.
Well. You wish she was.
He hated that she was keeping things from him. What if she needed help? Would she tell him if something was wrong? Or would she hide it?
This isn’t your business.
She’s not yours.
No, she belonged to that Russian bastard, Oleg. That asshole wasn’t worthy of being a pile of dog poop at her feet, let alone being in her bed every night.
That thought made him feel ill.
Face it. You’re jealous.
Jealous of the fact that he gets to be with her and you don’t.
Colm took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He reached out to grab her wrist without thought. He tried not to touch her. It was too much of a temptation. Because once he touched her, he didn’t know whether he’d be able to stop. If he’d be able to keep to the fragile boundary that they’d created between them.
She belongs to someone else.
And he really didn’t seem to care about that much.
Sofia hissed with pain, jumping away with a yelp, shocking him.
What the fuck was that?
She turned, holding the wrist he’d lightly touched with her other hand. The fear on her face floored him. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe.
Was she scared of him?
“Fuck, Sofia, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to touch you that hard. I would never . . . You know I could never hurt you.”
She just stared up at him, her shoulders hunched, her breathing too fast and shallow. And he realized he wasn’t asking her the most important question of all.
“Are you all right?” he whispered. He wanted to grab hold of her hand to inspect her wrist for bruises.
But he held himself back, scared of making things worse.