Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
I try to shake his touch off. The last thing I need is for Baron to see and get violent again. “Do you need help? Are you in danger? I think he is bratva. Did you know that?”
I have to forcibly pull my elbow from his hand and take a step back. “Yes, I’m a bratva princess, Denis,” I tell him.
I look for shock in his gaze, but it doesn’t come. Instead, he leans his face close again, speaking quietly. “I have connections. I can help you out of this marriage. You don’t have to stay with him.”
Gospodi, he sounds just like Brash. This is how it’s going to be for the rest of my life.
That thought is too much of a downer to even contemplate, so I push it away.
I’m happy with Baron. Mostly. But that’s between the two of us and maybe our families. It’s no one else’s business.
“I don’t need your help,” I say firmly. “But thank you for the offer.”
“Take my number. Call me if you do need help,” he insists.
Right. Like having another man’s number in my phone would go well for me if Baron found out.
“No thank you.” I move away, holding my breath until I sense him leave the bookstore.
It takes me a few minutes to shake off the tense feeling in my gut.
As I check out, I glance out the windows and see Baron walking by. He sees me at the same time and comes to a stop, a smile cracking his normally serious face.
I hold up one finger to tell him I’ll be right out, and he walks toward the doors.
A low voice speaks behind me in Russian. “Stay away from that boy–he’s dangerous.”
I whirl to find the Professor Vasiliev standing behind me in line.
Bozhe moi, I’m getting sick of everyone trying to rescue me. I give him a condemning look as I pick up my new book and the receipt. “Yes, I know you hate Baron.” I lift my chin. “He’s my husband, so you’ll probably hate me too.”
“No, not Baron,” he says. He darts a glance in the direction where I was standing with Denis. “The other one.”
Before I can ask more, the door opens. Vasiliev abruptly turns and walks away just before Baron appears through the door.
I swallow, my heart beating a little too fast.
What in the Hell was that?
Why would he say Denis is dangerous? That doesn’t make sense. He must have the two of them mixed up.
“Privet.” I lift my face to give Baron a smile and kiss.
He kisses me. “Privet, malyshka.”
I swear, I sense at least a third of the students in the bookstore watching us.
“That’s his wife,” someone murmurs. I hear other snippets of gossip around us.
“...arranged marriage...Russian mafiya…”
Baron truly is famous on this campus.
And now, so am I.
I don’t mind the attention.
He takes the new book from my hand and the book bag from my shoulder and puts an arm around me as we walk out to the murmurs around us.
“OMG, so jealous…they’re so cute…”
“Yeah, but do you think it’ll last?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Lara
Wednesday night, Baron takes me out to a fancy dinner and gets me tipsy on a hundred dollar bottle of wine and lobster.
He pulls me close as we leave the restaurant. “I loved our first date.”
“Is that what we’re calling this?” I tease. Having a first date after I’ve already done everything else with this man–married him, had wild and crazy sex, broken the law, played in a dungeon–seems laughable.
But he’s right. It felt like a first. I had the fizz of excitement in my belly when he told me he was taking me out, and I have it now going home with him.
This is the first date I wanted to go on with him. Even though he came on strong before, now that I care whether he loves me or not, his attention puts a glow of happiness around me.
We get to the SUV, and he opens my door and hands me in.
He leans his arm against the doorframe like he did that first day he picked me up from the airport. He looks like he’s going to say something, then seems to change his mind and shuts my door and gets into the driver’s seat.
As we drive back toward campus, the sound of sirens grows louder.
I crane my neck, peering out the window. “What do you think is going on?” I ask. “Is that smoke?”
“I think it’s possible there was a fire at Titan House while no one was there.”
I suck in a sharp breath as I realize our date was also a public alibi for Baron. I consider it for a moment. Do I hate that he took down the organization that tried to pin a rape charge on my husband and assaulted a young woman to do so?
No. No, I don’t.