Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 93463 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93463 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
“There’s nothing any of Rafail’s kids can throw at him that he hasn’t already seen or had to handle, thanks to Rodion.”
I smirk. Yeah, I understand that well enough.
“The youngest probably thinks he’s bulletproof, eh?” I say, and she nods with that knowing little grin. But then, just for a moment, her expression falters. She looks a bit sad.
She misses them. I can tell. They're practically all she's ever known. Her whole world.
“And Rodion’s married too, yeah?” I ask, softening my tone.
“Yes,” she says with a nod. “He married a girl named Ember. She’s the one who got me into romance books.”
“Romance books?” My brow quirks. “You like to read romance?”
“Like?” She laughs. “I read two hundred fifty books last year.”
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. I don’t think I’ve read two hundred fifty books in me whole life,” I admit.
She laughs again, and it’s bloody adorable. She covers her mouth like she’s trying to stifle it, her shoulders lifting a little. It's bashful, sweet. I want to pull her into me, tuck her under my chin, and kiss that little temple of hers.
“What do you like about romance novels?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“Oh gosh… everything,” she says, and there’s a dreamy look in her eyes. “I’ve always been a hopeless romantic.”
Good to know. My little lass likes the sweet things. And here I am, the devil who dragged her out of her homeland and across the sea.
“And then I came along and swept you out of your home and your country,” I say with a wry smile. “But I don’t regret it. No. I’d do it a thousand times over.” She gives me a sad smile. I reach for her hand. “Is there anything romantic in that?” I ask her, searching her eyes.
She pauses, thoughtful. Her gaze drops for a second. “It depends on why you did it,” she says quietly, her voice shaking just a little.
“If you did it because of pride, or to prove something, or just to get one over on my brothers… then no. I wouldn’t think that’s romantic at all.”
And I know her. I know her enough to hear the hope in her voice, that it wasn’t that. After all those nights in a dimly lit pub, all the conversations… I know her.
I’ll tell her the truth.
Christ, I’ll tell her the truth.
I lean back on the big sofa, legs spread, and pat my right thigh with my palm. “Come here, Zoya.”
It’s soft, but it’s still a command. One I know she’ll obey.
She rises slowly, wearing nothing but my oversized T-shirt. Her hair’s a chaotic mess, half-damp, half-dry. Her face is bare, slightly pink, beautiful. Her eyes, wide and wondering.
She walks toward me, hesitant.
“Right here,” I say, and she perches lightly on the edge of my lap.
That won’t do.
I wrap my arms around her and haul her fully into me, until she’s nestled properly where she belongs. She smells bloody divine. Feels even better. I close my eyes and breathe her in.
I’ll go to hell for what I did. And if me da has his way, it’ll be sooner rather than later.
But I don’t regret one fuckin’ second.
“Look at me, little lass,” I whisper into her ear.
She turns to face me. I frame her face with both hands, gentle but firm, and I make sure she doesn’t look away.
“My sweet, beautiful girl,” I say, barely above a whisper. “I was in jail when I found out you were engaged.”
Her eyes go wide, lips parting.
“I broke out, Zoya. Broke out to find you. Because the thought of you belongin’ to another man, of him even thinkin’ he had a claim on you, made me lose my fuckin’ mind.”
She swallows. Her eyes shine.
“There were plenty of things I could’ve done to stick it to your brothers. Believe me, I thought of all of ’em. But takin’ you wasn’t about them.”
I shake my head slowly. “I took you because you were mine. Always were. Always will be. I took you because the idea of you being touched by anyone else made me want to put a bullet in my own skull.”
She swallows hard, and her voice is a whisper. “I’m afraid, Seamus.”
She trembles under my hands as I hold her by the shoulders. I could hurt her easily. Too easily.
But I won’t. Never.
A man like me… we learn our strength early. I was just a lad when I hurt one of my sisters by accident, and me da made sure I never did it again.
I just didn’t know my strength then.
I do now.
And most of the time, I use it. I bend it to my will. I use it to protect, to intimidate when I have to. But around her… I restrain myself. She’s delicate, in all the best ways.
That challenge was part of what drew me in. She made me question everything. Made me feel things I didn’t know I could feel.