Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Vaska leaned his elbows on the wood seat behind him. “And since my amazing wife practically lives at your wife’s salon, she told Mary, who told me.”
I put the cloth back over my eyes. “All of you suck. I didn’t get bitch slapped. And her name is Vivian.”
Maxim stretched his legs out along one of the wooden benches and lay down. “Don’t listen to them, Var. A slap led to the best sex of my life.” Suddenly, he rose up on his elbows. “If any of you chatty bastards go gossiping to your girls, you better say that I said the love of my life, or Carinna will have my balls.”
Maxim talked shit, but we all knew he’d go absolutely nuclear if anyone so much as looked at his girl funny. Carinna’s bakery had received a one-star review on that stupid yuppie site and the man had tracked the idiot down and held a gun to the man’s head until he changed it to a glowing five-star review.
Ivan chuckled. “Yes, all good love stories start with Prince Charming calling the princess a whore and getting the stupid slapped out of him.”
Maxim threw a cloth at Ivan’s head. “Yeah, as opposed to stalking the princess across the country.”
Ivan spread his arms. “It’s not stalking if you’re rescuing her from a kidnapping. I’m a goddamn hero.”
Vaska swatted a bannyy venik of eucalyptus against his back. “And the part that came after she was safe?”
Ivan nodded and smiled. “Oh, that was full on stalking.”
Anton looked over at me. “So let me get this straight. The woman who can put us at the scene of a crime we went to great lengths and expense to cover up is now your new fuck buddy?”
I knew he meant nothing by it. And under normal circumstances, I probably would not have even noticed, but it didn’t sit well with me, hearing Vivian referred to in that manner.
There was something so transient and casual about the term. As if she were nothing more than a warm body for a few nights’ amusement.
The idea of letting Vivian go her own way after a few more fucks made me want to throw hands. It was worse if I thought about her moving on to another man. As it was, I wanted to track down every male name in her phone contact list and beat them senseless.
It wasn’t rational. I accepted that.
Nothing about how I’d handled the Vivian situation was rational or even smart.
I should never have gotten involved with her. She was a dangerous loose end. The worst kind. A witness. While I believed her when she said she didn’t see the actual killings, that didn’t make her less of a liability.
She could identify us all as being on the scene.
That alone was enough to cause problems.
On top of that, I was certain she had not told me all she knew.
I suspected she had information on the identity of the forger.
Maybe he came by the office with the paintings. She might not know his full name, but I’d bet money she knew his face.
And while that information would be useful, it was only a matter of time before I learned the art forger’s identity through the usual black-market channels. That sort of thing didn’t stay hidden for long, especially not after I’d spread the word I was interested in a commission and would pay top dollar.
I should have given her the bribe money, threatened the crap out of her, and put her on a plane. She should have been so frightened of ever crossing me she never returned to US soil.
And yet… the damn woman had never even gotten on the plane.
Worse, she turned up bold-as-brass to threaten me with the police.
If she’d been a man, she never would have finished the threat before a bullet pierced her brain.
Problem solved.
Except she wasn’t a man. Far fucking from it.
Vivian was all gorgeous curves, fiery emerald green eyes, and full lips that made a man want to get down on his knees and beg for a taste.
But it was more than that.
She was smart and feisty with the mouth of a sailor. I didn’t know many women, outside of my friends’ wives, who’d have the balls to stroll into an infamous gambling den, demanding a job.
The fact was she gave as good as she got, and holy hell, was the giving good.
The two times I’d been with her had been the best sex of my life.
All that fire, defiance, and anger. She truly was a wild filly who needed taming, but not too much.
Unfortunately, all those qualities that were drawing me to her like a moth to a flame were also what made her a terrible liability. My friends would be within their rights to demand something be done about her.
I rubbed my hand over my jaw. “It’s complicated.”