Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
I scurry under the covers when he gives me a narrow-eyed look. I’m holding my breath, waiting for the bed to sink under his weight when he joins me.
“I did what you said. Now go to sleep. Early morning comes fast.”
I open my mouth to tell him I’m going to sleep because I’m tired and not because he’s bossing me around, then think better of it because he’s lying right next to me. He’s already given me a few warnings about behaving myself. I’m not sure if it’s my imagination running wild because I’ve read too many of a certain kind of novel, but it’s probably not smart to talk back in any event.
I’m also really tired and don’t need to be told twice.
I close my eyes, letting my mind wander. Of course it settles on all the little things that made my heart beat faster tonight.
The feel of his eyes focused on mine. The way his finger tipped under my chin. The command in his voice and his promise to protect me. The sight of his chiseled inked back—better than the cover of my romance novels. The sound of his voice, all deep and husky with that accent. The warmth of his body behind me. . .
I close my eyes and fall into a deep sleep.
I wake up a few hours later, disoriented, and glance at a tiny alarm clock on the desk. Still a bit longer until I need to wake up. This jet lag is no joke. I toss and turn and stare at the ceiling, then reach for my phone and realize it’s plugged in by the desk. I consider getting up but don’t want to wake him when the heavy warmth of an arm snakes around my belly, over the bedclothes.
“Go to sleep, Vera,” Markov says in a sexy, sleepy voice.
“I’m wide awake.”
“Do what they do in the military. Close your eyes and will your mind to stop. Don’t allow any more thoughts, then rest.”
“I can’t stop my mind,” I protest. What a silly thought.
The sound of his soft, heavy breaths tells me he was able to do that and is already back to sleep.
Okay, then.
I close my eyes. I think no thoughts, but a certain large, muscular Russian’s face comes straight into my mind’s eye. What would it be like to kiss him? What would it be like to be touched by him? What would it be like if…
No. I can’t think like this. Nope.
I finally fall into a deep and dreamless sleep until the blare of my alarm clock rouses me. I roll over and stretch before I remember I’m not alone in this bed.
I have plenty of room, though. He isn’t here.
Did someone come back in the middle of the night? I push off the covers and walk across the room to shut off my alarm, looking around for Markov. Was there a threat, and he—
I can hear the sound of running water in the bathroom. Okay, he’s obviously just in the bathroom, and I didn’t hear it before because of the alarm.
Does the man ever sleep?
I’m not going to let him outdo me when it comes to getting ready, not a second time in a row. I laid out my workout clothes the night before, so I quickly strip out of the clothes I slept in, my back to the bathroom, and quickly pull my shorts on when I hear the bathroom door open.
“Stop! Don’t come out; I’m getting dressed.” My telltale cheeks betray me as always, heating so badly this time I feel it all the way from my hairline to my neck. I can feel his presence just on the other side of this door, standing deadly still as I quickly tug my workout clothes on.
“Alright,” I breathe, turning away so he doesn’t see my cheeks. “I’m done.”
The bathroom door creaks open as I reach down to put my socks on.
“If you don’t want me to see you naked, it might be wise not to get dressed in the room we share,” he says sarcastically.
“Kinda hard to do when you’re hogging the damn bathroom.”
I stand up to face him and nearly lose my shit when I see he’s only wearing a towel. Good God. I spin quickly around so I don’t stare at his wall of chest and nearly trip over my own two feet.
He grabs my arm and holds me upright, his face impassive and his lips once more pressed into a thin, severe line. I wonder if I imagined any warmth or hint of humor the day before.
“What did I tell you about your mouth?”
Before he can unnerve me all over again, I pull my arm away from his and head to the bathroom, but he grabs my braid, all tangled and disheveled from sleeping. I stop short.