The Missus – Mister & Missus Read Online E.L. James

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 142043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
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“I think he’s happy,” she says eventually.

“Good. We can talk more on this.”

“I don’t want to talk more on this,” Alessia retorts, mortified.

“Don’t you have questions?”

Alessia pales at the thought. “No!”

“I suppose it’s a bit late for that now. But if you have questions, your father and I—”

“Mama! Stop!” Alessia puts her hands over her ears. “I don’t want to know.”

Her mother laughs good-naturedly. “It is good to have you back, my heart. I have missed you so much.” Her laughter fades, and her eyes narrow, her expression shifting—becoming serious. “Last night, I tossed and turned in bed. I was thinking about the ramifications of something that Lord Maxim said. I couldn’t sleep with worry.” Her voice fades away.

“What is it, Mama?”

She takes a deep breath as if what she’s about to say is particularly unpalatable. “He said something about sex trafficking.”

Alessia gasps. “Oh, Mama, I have so much to tell you, but first I’ll have a shower.”

Her mother gathers her into her arms. “Sweet child of my heart,” she says softly in her ear. “I’m so glad you are home. And safe.”

“Me too, Mama. And no more Anatoli.”

Shpresa nods. “And your fiancé, does he have a violent temper?”

“No. No. He doesn’t. Quite the opposite.”

Her mother beams. “You light up like summer when you talk about him.” She takes Alessia’s hand and, raising a brow, admires the beautiful engagement ring. “He has money and taste.”

Alessia nods and stares at the sparkling diamond on her finger.

This beautiful ring is now hers.

She can hardly believe it.

“Go shower. I will make bread and coffee.”

Alessia stands beneath the shower in the family bathroom, reveling in the hot water. It’s not as fast flowing as the showers in Cornwall, but she welcomes the warmth as she scrubs her skin clean. This is the first moment she’s allowed herself to reflect on all that’s happened over the last few days.

Anatoli. Her kidnapping. The long journey here. His brutality.

She shudders. He’s out of her life now, and for that, she’s grateful.

And she was welcomed home; even her father admitted he missed her.

Alessia closes her eyes as she vigorously rubs the shampoo into her hair, trying to erase her guilt. She’s lied to her parents, and her dishonesty chafes like a burr on her conscience.

She’s not pregnant, but should she tell them the truth?

What would her father say if he knew? What would he do?

She raises her face to the cascade and lets it wash over her.

And then there’s Maxim.

She grins into the stream of water. He crossed a continent to find her and brought a ring with him to propose. It’s far more than she could ever have dreamed of or hoped for. Now, she needs to find out how Maxim really feels about having an Albanian wedding forced on him.

He didn’t object last night.

But she wishes her father were less insistent.

Alessia would be happier back in London and worries Maxim will feel the same. How long will it be before he becomes bored of being in Kukës? He’s used to a very different life, and there’s not much to entertain him here. Perhaps they should flee Kukës together. They could marry in England.

Would Maxim consider this idea? Alessia rinses her hair and stops.

No. Mama!

Alessia cannot leave her mother at the mercy of her father. She must bring her mother with her. Could she? Would Maxim object? After all, Shpresa speaks fluent English. Her mother, Alessia’s beloved grandmother Virginia, was English. She must have family in England. Alessia doesn’t know. Her Nana never spoke of her English family because they disapproved of her marriage to an Albanian man.

Will it be the same with Maxim’s family?

Will they disapprove of her?

A shiver skitters down her spine. Maxim’s marrying his cleaner, a penniless foreigner. Of course they won’t approve. Alessia’s mood sours.

What can she do?

Perhaps they shouldn’t marry until she’s met his family, and she’ll know if they accept her, or not, because in the depths of her heart—she wants their blessing.

But first, she must navigate her father and his expectations, and he’s a stubborn, temperamental, proud man. He said he wanted them married by the end of the week.

Is that even possible?

She scrubs her face. There is much to think about and much to be done.

When Alessia enters the kitchen, her mother looks up from kneading dough and studies her. “You look different,” she says, setting the dough aside to rise.

“Is it the clothes?” Alessia does a twirl. She’s wearing a skirt, top, and cardigan from the collection that Maxim bought her in Padstow.

“Yes, maybe. But you look more worldly.” Her mother moves to the sink to wash her hands.

“I am,” Alessia replies quietly. She’s been trafficked through Europe, been homeless, lived in one of the busiest cities in the world, and she’s fallen in love… then had that all snatched away from her as she was kidnapped, and nearly raped, by her betrothed. Alessia shudders.


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