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)
Fuck. When was the last time he’d feared something? He couldn’t remember. But this woman had the power to make him afraid, to bring him to his knees.
To make him do anything she desired . . . give her whatever she wanted.
Right now, she probably wants you to leave her alone.
The one thing he didn’t want to give her.
Why wasn’t she speaking, though?
Fuck. What should he do?
“Sofia?” he spoke softly, not wanting to startle her. “Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry, Mo leannan.”
Crap.
Did he really just call her ‘my sweetheart?’
What was he thinking?
She shook her head suddenly. “No, it’s fine. You didn’t hurt me.”
Anger filled him for a second time, and he had to breathe his way through it. Why was she lying to him?
“I obviously did, since you just went pale as a ghost and flinched back in pain.” His gaze narrowed as he studied her. Something else just occurred to him. “Unless it wasn’t me who hurt you. Show me your arm.”
Panic filled her.
She couldn’t let him see her arm. Couldn’t have him asking her questions about what had happened.
There was no way that she could tell him the truth . . .
“Sofia. Show me.”
His voice was steel. Pure demand.
And very unlike the soft tone he’d used to talk to her before. When he’d thought that he’d hurt her.
The last thing she wanted was to lie to him.
But it wasn’t like she could tell him the truth, could she?
She rarely saw his harder side, but she knew it was there. You didn’t get to be the bodyguard of Rogan MacGuire without proving that you had a ruthless, dangerous side.
“No. Thank you for helping me, but you can leave now.” She thrust her shoulders back and raised her chin. It felt good to assert herself. To say what she wanted for once. Too bad she couldn’t grow a permanent backbone.
And the sad truth was that the only reason she could refuse Colm’s request was because she trusted him not to retaliate and hurt her.
Request? Who are you kidding?
That had been an order, pure and simple.
“Sofia,” he rumbled, his Scottish accent thickening again.
Despite the firmness in his gaze and the way he’d growled at her, she still didn’t fear him. She cocked her head to one side, letting a smile tease at her lips.
When was the last time she’d smiled? It happened so rarely she couldn’t remember.
Probably when you were talking to Colm.
What she wouldn’t give to be free to pursue her feelings for him. To feel as safe as she did with him all the time.
God. That would be incredible.
Her cousin would kill to keep her safe. But even he didn’t know about all the monsters in her closet.
And he couldn’t know—she couldn’t lose him.
Aleksandr was all she had. Without him, she’d be lost.
She’d be nothing.
“Yes?” She tried to act nonchalant, to sound unaffected. But she could hear the breathy tone of her voice.
“Show me your arms.”
“Have you got an arm fetish? Seems a weird thing to be interested in.” She winked at him, trying to lighten the mood. Sofia knew how single-minded he could be.
How stubborn he was.
“Sofia, I am not kidding around, I—”
“Oleg? Are you in here?”
Sofia spun, slightly alarmed at the sound of her cousin’s voice. Aleksandr Anisimov was the head of the Bratva. He was also the man who had taken care of her when her father died. She’d been seventeen and terrified. But Sacha had been living with them for several years by that point. And he’d made it clear that he would always take care of her.
They were family, more like brother and sister than cousins.
But a part of her was still scared that his love for her could be broken. That the affection he gave her in private would turn to disgust.
To hatred.
That couldn’t happen.
Her breathing grew more rapid.
Losing Sacha wasn’t an option. He was her world.
He’d even opened this restaurant for her.
Sure, he used the secret back room for meetings, which often included the leaders of some of the most powerful gangs in San Antonio. Meetings she wasn’t privy to, meetings she was supposed to ignore, to pretend they never happened.
But she knew the way these things worked. She’d grown up the Princess of the Bratva. Sofia knew how to keep secrets. How to hide what she really thought or felt.
Although both her father and Sacha had shielded her from the harsher side of what they did.
Maybe they’d shielded her too well. Perhaps if she’d had a few more street smarts, she wouldn’t have gotten herself into the predicament she was now in.
Crap.
What would Sacha think if he found her in here with Colm?
He liked Colm . . . at least he didn’t seem to hate him. But Colm wasn’t Russian. He wasn’t in the family.
So she knew he wouldn’t be considered an appropriate partner for her.