Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 100716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
You can’t save a man’s life and expect anything less.
As Rafael enters the four-bedroom apartment I purchased years ago but haven’t stepped foot in before tonight, his eyes widen. He whistles when he takes in the decor that cost more than his first apartment, doubling the heat on the cheeks of the women crushing his designer suit.
Their burn doubles when he offers an introduction, like being offered a low-end appetizer after consuming a five-star entrée is the norm. “Ark, I have the pleasure of introducing you to Ainissa.” He purrs out the name of the blonde cozied at his side in a long, wanton moan as his eyes rake her body.
Ainissa is dressed similarly to the brunette. Her skirt is short, her shirt is fitted, and her heels scream the desperation of a woman wanting to be fucked. She just fails to ignite a single throb from my cock.
Rafael is unaware of that since I’m no longer naked. “Ainissa, дорогой, this is my good friend Ark. The man I was telling you about.”
I block their entrance when he attempts to guide Ainissa toward one of the spare suites.
Rafael raises a brow, silently questioning my denial. I don’t understand his confusion. I turned the brunette down, so why would I be interested in Ainissa? The brunette was far more attractive, and she had a shy demeanor rarely found in the prostitution conglomerate.
When I hint at an early night, Rafael’s face can’t decide which emotion to display first. “It is barely seven, and our flight was long. You need to de-stress.”
“I am. I have.”
He huffs like he knows every word I speak is a lie. “You look more worked up now than when Fyodor announced the reason for our visit to Myasnikov.” I glower when he laughs, and he backs down. “All right. If you’re sure.”
I nod before turning on my heel.
It is almost comical when a side of my head I haven’t used in a long time surfaces before I can stop it. “Keep the brunette away from the rest of the men.”
I don’t get jealous. Never have. There’s just something about the brunette that has me altering my usually unbreakable stance on no permanent attachments. I want to say that this is the purpose of my trip to Myasnikov, but it feels beyond that.
There’s a silence before Rafael says, “The brunette?”
I turn to face him, my jaw working side to side when the faintest flash of her unblemished face curtained by dark, molten hair spikes my pulse. “The woman you sent earlier. Five two. One hundred and twenty pounds. Long, glossy locks.” And far too young for me to even look at, although most likely three to four years older than Ainissa, who is still hopeful of an invitation to my bed.
The lust in her eyes announces this, much less the greed.
Old money has a scent not many women can ignore. It makes them as rampant as a rat with rabies and has them pulling out every trick in the book to be beneath you.
With Rafael still confused, I thrust my hand to the bathroom. “She brought me my cologne.”
This will make me sound fucked in the head, but so be it. I am. Certain smells trigger me. They’re usually feminine, so to save any incidents from being reported to the media, I cake my skin with pricy cologne before inviting members of the opposite sex into my domain.
“This cologne?”
This reply doesn’t come from Rafael.
It comes from Ainissa, who is thrusting a boxed bottle of cologne my way.
I take in the familiar label before lifting my eyes to Rafael.
Fury burns through my veins.
It is closely followed by intense interest.
3
MARA
After my third call to Mrs. Lichard goes to voicemail, I leave a message. “I’m sorry. I accepted extra hours hoping it would ease this month’s budget.” It pains me to think of Tillie’s disappointment when she learns I missed the bus to her birthday party.
“My last errand took longer than expected.” I glance at the building I fled like my backside was on fire, sparking fresh nerves to bombard my stomach. They’re not solely from recalling my exchange with the dark-haired stranger, but also from spotting my supervisor’s exit.
“But I have a solution. I should still make it on time.” I race for Val, my worn heels clomping the pavement. “If I don’t arrive before Tillie’s guests, please tell their parents I’m not far away.” After a quick thanks, I disconnect our call and wave my hand through the air. “Val!”
Like me, she exits the Chrysler building via the side entrance. Her pace is so brisk that I have to increase my speed if I want any chance of catching her. She isn’t purposely avoiding me. Rather, she can’t hear me due to the boisterous conversation between two individuals exiting the building from the main entrance.