Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
In the Romanov family estate, it was almost a maze, and they’d recently granted me some freedom to explore. I planned on using that to my full advantage.
I wanted to find Ollie.
I walked down the hallway toward a sliver of yellow light spilling from a door that stood slightly ajar.
My instincts said I shouldn't be here. That I should be hiding, or at the very least, I should be in bed. But I felt drawn to that doorway like a moth to a flame.
I wanted to see Ollie. In the short time I'd been a prisoner of the Romanovs, I'd begun to crave his presence.
The harsh sound of a Russian accent made a shiver skate down my spine. I paused in the doorway, my breath catching as I took in the scene. Ollie was there, standing over a man tied to a chair, his voice low and menacing. The man’s face was a mask of fear. Ollie stood, bare-chested and slick with sweat, like a warrior on an ancient battlefield, ruthless and unyielding. My God, he was so sexy. The sight of him, so powerful, so commanding, stirred something primal in me. I finally understood why my cousin once confided in me that the best way to get turned on was by watching a man fight.
I knew he was aware of my presence because of the way he tilted his chin in my direction before he went right back to work. He continued to ask questions, none that I could understand because everything was in Russian, but his voice was calm and void of all emotion.
I watched as the man spat something out in Russian and turned his head away. Ollie growled back in Russian, stepped forward, and fisted the man’s hair. I swallowed a gasp, forcing myself to watch in silence. To not look away.
In one swift movement, Ollie elbowed him in the neck. The man’s screams echoed in the room, but Ollie showed no signs of remorse. He wrapped his hands around his neck, and the man turned purple as Ollie barked out instructions in his ear.
Something had threatened his safety… or the safety of someone in his family. His calm was terrifying, a storm just beneath the surface as he delivered blow after blow, unshaken by the raw violence.
He spoke in calm, measured Russian tones, and the man nodded, pleading.
I took a step into the room.
When Ollie turned to me, the hardness in his face melted away, replaced by a softness that was almost impossible to believe. How could this be the same person? I wondered if I imagined it. Was I so desperate for love and attention that at the slightest hint of interest and I’d fall?
A small smile actually played on his lips as he approached me. He reached down, took his T-shirt draped over a chair, and wiped his hand before he touched me. Approaching me, he gently placed his hand on the side of my cheek, perhaps his favorite way to touch me, before he bent and kissed my forehead.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said, peering into my eyes. It was a complete transformation—from ruthless interrogator to gentle protector. "Are you all right, Renata? Did something scare you? Do you feel well?" His hand brushed my forehead with a tenderness that felt almost out of place after what I’d just seen.
I swallowed hard and shook my head, not even sure which question I answered.
I'd seen vicious brutality in my life. My own brother had grown to be a man devoid of emotion, but in all my life, no one had ever touched me with such tenderness or looked in my eyes as if he would move a mountain with his own bare hands to make me happy.
I wondered what crime the man had committed to earn such punishment.
That night, as I watched him shift from ruthless to gentle, something inside me broke—and I think I fell in love. I mumbled something about my stomach being uneasy, which wasn’t a lie. He frowned and nodded, holding my gaze as if I were the only person in the world and he wasn’t still covered in the blood of another man.
“Back to bed,” he ordered, his voice gentle but leaving no room for disobedience. A man of few words, I’d quickly learned Ollie always meant what he said. “I'll get you something to make you feel better.” He turned me around toward the door. “Go, now, Renata.”
“Thank you,” I whispered. My eyes flickered at the man in the chair. Ollie didn't know that I could detect lies. Could he use my help now?
Something told me to wait until the time was right.
I went back to bed and lay down. I tried to summon some vestige of humanity, some horror for what I've seen. I wanted to be horrified. I wanted to feel normal, but all I could remember was that tender look in his eyes.