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 had this phone when I arrived. I have two. You can see them if you’d like. One is older, but the contacts didn’t sync correctly, so I carry both.”
I’m not quite sure I believe him, but what reason would he have to lie?
“Oh.”
Tonight has shown me again the reality of who we are. The truth crashes into my thoughts like thunder.
It isn’t right. It isn’t fair. But it never was.
I’ve given myself to a man who can never be who I need him to be. I have fallen in love with a man who’ll always abide by his own code of ethics, everything and everyone else be damned.
I need to sleep. We both need to.
I’m bone-weary when we get back and don’t give Markov a hard time when he sweeps the room. Checks the door. Checks his phone and sends a text. Checks his weapon and makes sure it’s loaded before placing it on the dresser.
“Come to bed, Markov,” I say gently. My eyes feel scratchy when I blink, but when he joins me, I draw in a gasp.
“Your hands,” I whisper. “They’re a mess.”
He scowls down at his bruised and bloodied knuckles and shrugs. “It’s fine.”
“We can at least wash them,” I say, pushing out of bed and getting a washcloth from the bathroom. I wet it with warm, soapy water and rejoin him. “I don’t have much in the line of first aid with me. . .”
“I don’t need it. I’m only humoring you.”
I give him a serious look. “Protection is your job, and I’ve humored you. But this is mine. Medical, remember? First aid? This is my jam. Don’t take this away from me.”
He grunts and reluctantly nods. “Go on.”
I kneel in front of him so I can get a better look. I take his large, calloused palm in both of my hands and peer at the damage. He could use antiseptic but we’re lacking a fully stocked first aid kit. Instead, I clean the blood and sweat from both hands and find that the wounds are only superficial.
“Told you I was fine,” he grunts.
I nod, placing his hands down and going to put both of mine on his knees to push up to standing, but something stops me.
I’m. . . kneeling before him. This feels intimate.
Submissive.
The utterly possessive look in his eyes tells me he feels it, too.
“You have an important day tomorrow, Vera,” he says in a way that’s very. . . Daddy.
I nod.
“You’re on the verge of a breakthrough, aren’t you?”
My chest swells. He knows. He’s been following along while I chatter on and on about the challenges we’ve faced. “Yeah,” I say softly. We’ve been studying specifically how certain plants indigenous to remote areas are unaffected by a biological threat with widespread pathogens. If we learn how to harness this knowledge, it could change so much. . .
“I believe in you. I know you can do this.” His eyes heat, and the tone of his voice tells me he feels what I do, too. “I like this vantage point. What about you, Vera? Do you?”
I do. I so do. Slowly, I nod because I don’t trust my voice, and I’m confused about why this feels so nice. I’m a strong, independent woman who gets shit done. I got here of my own volition and on my own merit. Why do I melt into a puddle when I’m kneeling in front of him?
Slowly, he cups my face with his large hand. I swallow when he drags the pad of his thumb along my lower lip.
“I’ll have to remember this. Now, you need some rest so you’re ready for tomorrow.”
I want to pout, but I feel my body aching for rest.
“Tomorrow, we’ll discuss that little fit you had in the community room.”
I open my mouth to protest as my heartbeat thunders in my ears. “Markov—”
One sharp shake of his head tells me this isn’t the time we’ll discuss anything. “Now you need sleep. We both do. You have to work tomorrow. And when your work is over. . . we’ll have a talk.”
I can’t help but wonder if that talk will involve me over his knee. Why does a small part of me hope that it does while the rest of me balks? This is way more complicated than I anticipated.
It isn’t complicated sliding into bed, though. I close my eyes and feel the softness of the mattress and the warmth of Markov beside me."Rest, Vera.”
I close my eyes, resting easy in the knowledge that he absolutely has this under control.
The next day, Jake doesn’t show up to the clinical. He’s not missed, though, and even Irina isn’t bothered by it. She doesn’t say much, likely because she aims to be professional, but at the end of the day, she says, “It was nice to see the rest of you have more of a chance to. . . participate.”